The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness
by A Shining Armour
Summary: LoZ: OoT&MM and Castlevania: Legacy of Darkness crossover. Don't have to play Castlevania to understand. When Link finds himself cursed in the land of Walachia, he learns there is only one way to end it: journeying to the legendary Castlevania itself...
1. The Hero and the Champion

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hello everyone! Welcome to my first fic! Anywho, this _is _a crossover between Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time/Majora's Mask and Castlevania: Legacy of Darkness, though you_ don't have _to have played any Castlevania games to understand. Even though the majority of the fic is Castlevania-ish, I posted it under Zelda because 1) too many Castlevania fans already know the plot and 2) character development reasons. Also, if you have played the games _please _don't mention any certain "twists" that happen in your reviews-I'll be using a few of them. Thanks in advance!

BTW: I've done some research for this fic and all of my references I used will be posted as my final chapter.

With regards to this chapter, it's a tad dry. That's because there's a lot of explaining about Link's past—so bear with me. This chapter could've been a prologue.

----------Means flashback/end flashback

**SUMMARY:**

When Link finds himself cursed in the desolate land of Walachia, he learns there is only one way to end it; journeying to the legendary Castlevania itself…

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything from Termina or Hyrule—nor do I own the minions from Castlevania. And I don't own Walachia, that's some province in Transylvania owned by…whoever owns it.

PRONOUNCITATION KEY: Walachia (wah-LA-kee-uh)

DEDICATION: Katherine, this fic is going out to you because I know how long you've been waiting for it!

* * *

_**Chapter One: The Hero and the Champion**_

* * *

_**DAY ONE: MORNING**_

The new day's sun was slouching out from behind gloomy gray clouds. Apparently in a rather lazy mood, even its rays of light seemed to sag with the reluctance to shine. The atmosphere seemed mildly threatening, with a slight breeze grazing past the lands of Termina. Gathering rain, one could see that the clouds would soon pour all over the land at any given moment. For now though, the Terminese were huddled in their warm beds, still fast asleep as the sun was rising over the eastern horizon. Nevertheless the people would dread stepping outdoors once they awoke.

Even on Romani Ranch, not a soul could be seen outdoors doing early morning chores. The old Mama's House stood tall against the light threats, accompanied by the great barn and numerous sheds. Everyone kept to the warmth of indoors. Not that many would dare otherwise; the ranch's vast fields were swallowed in the dim light—one could barely make out anything using it. Which would cause one to wonder—why would a lone figure be creeping towards the hangar at this time of hour?

The figure was indeed hastening; one could tell by the way the lad fumbled with the countless latches and locks using only a single hand. One could observe the way his green jester-like hat shook as he threw back his head in frustration. Taking a deep breath, the young man calmed himself.

"Come on Link, pull it together," he muttered under his breath.

He wore a simple forest green tunic over white leggings and a shirt. Around him though, were several bags and pieces of equipment, all nearly covered by the sturdy brown traveler's cloak he sported. Concentrating harder on the latches, he was able to open them properly this time—even if he only could use one hand.

The young man was careful to keep his hand over the bags, stilling them. Glimpsing around him, he carefully slipped inside. Immediately, he was greeted by the stench of horse dung mixed with fresh hay. Another smell wafted its way through to him—the scent of new oak wood. _It looks a lot better now_, Link found himself thinking. The barn itself had been expanded significantly; it actually extended to a point where one could barely make out what was on the other end.

Hay lay strewn about the solid floor and hung from the enormous loft. Because most of the animals were still fast asleep, the barn remained unusually quiet. Those that were awake made no sound as the intruder walked amongst them. Sparing a brief moment to run a hand over the walls, the Hero of Time smiled softly to himself. _It's strange that I leave with these memories. _

Link pulled himself out of his thoughts; he was getting unnecessarily somber. _You'll be coming back—you always do._ Shaking his head slightly, Link hurried forwards. On a ranch, there was no way he'd be left alone this long—despite the fact that it was the crack of dawn.

He pressed himself past the numerous stalls, all the way to the back. He could feel the gear he bore banging against him as he hurried. _For Din's sake, please keep them quiet._ This was only eating away at the precious few minutes he had. _Damn, Cremia's come to know me too well._ She knew perfectly well that he wasn't the type to stay long; and she'd purposely set up every hindrance she could.

Surprisingly, Link found that he actually appreciated it. Even before he had been dubbed "Champion of the Giants", Cremia had always looked out for him. Her concern was forever genuine—even when Link had come here eight years ago as a child. The woman had tried to coax him into staying at the ranch. _You're just a child,_ she used to say. _How do you plan on taking care of yourself?_

He had answered as he usually did with such questions—honestly. He convinced her that he was merely traveling—he'd be returning home soon, as he had then hoped. Even now, Link hadn't exactly _lied_ to his hosting family; he just…hadn't told them the whole truth. Though he was their Champion—the Romani Ranch still looked out for him.

Champion of the Giants. Such a curious title for him—especially since Link was only ten when he had been dubbed. The title represented the fact that he had championed over the cursed Majora's Moon by summoning the Four Guardian Giants. They had gone through a number of honoraries; eventually the King of Termina had decided this was the most suitable title for such a "divine hero".

Another thing Link found peculiar; these Terminese worshipped him as their Champion. But in Hyrule…not a soul save the Princess and the Sages remembered the Battle once time had been rewound. It was always strange whenever Link traveled between the two countries. The one country in which he technically spent only three days saving treats him like a renowned hero…in the other, where he gave up seven years of his life; he was just another face in the crowd. Yet still, he found he cared for both lands—even if he was in such a hurry to return to Hyrule. _But I _will_ come back…_

Skidding to a halt, Link threw the bags that had he had been carrying on the floor. He saddled up his chestnut-brown stallion, Epona; his still-sore arm groaning in protest at his quick movements. His goddessed-damned arm was slowing him down. How Link hated setbacks. As he automatically prepared his horse, he allowed his mind to wander momentarily over the past few weeks at Romani Ranch.

He could still remember how long it had taken to rebuild the old barn. No matter what Link told himself, he felt a pang in his chest. It had finally hit him that he was leaving the family and Ranch so abruptly—especially when they'd taken such good care of him.

"It's better this way,"Link reminded himself firmly, as he continued to sling his saddle bags over his faithful steed. He chanced a quick look over his shoulder before continuing This was how he always left: at the first light of morning, gone before anyone could ask any questions. Questions that he most likely couldn't answer.

He had always been a terrible liar—probably one of the drawbacks of holding honesty as a virtue. Besides, it wasn't as though he was leaving Romani Ranch _forever_, Link reminded himself—he just needed to get back to Hyrule. Perhaps he would be staying there longer than usual, but it would still only be for a while.

The Princess was expecting him—he had to be there.

Stepping further into his Epona's stall, Link reached down to double-check his belt supplies. Link cursed when he realized that he was missing his canteen. Throwing another glance over his shoulder, he did a swift assessment for it with his eyes through the rest of his equipment. Link sighed; fine then, he'd go without fluid. He really didn't want to go back into Mama's House and accidentally wake anyone up—especially this early in the morning.

He had to go soon; the morning wasn't exactly a promising one—unless one counted the day's ominous guarantee. Dreary and grey, it hardly suited the demands of a traveler at all. Resting a foot in the stir-up, Link hoisted himself one-handed atop of Epona. He had just begun to adjust himself into the saddle when something made him stop.

The barn door was creaking open—his body tensed at the sound. Glancing up, he saw a crack of what little sunlight there was spill in past the door. Link froze. A young woman with crimson red hair stepped into full view of the barn door—though Link wondered why by the Giants was Cremia up so early.

On a ranch, one would expect to have to be up early, but surely not a pregnant woman of twenty-five? Striding forwards, she headed towards the delivery cart without sparing Link a glance.

"Good mornin' Link! Well, at least someone's out of bed! I mean, goodness, Romani was _supposed_ to wake up early to watch the cows, but, well—you know how she is, acting all sulky ever since I gave her that talking to, you know,"

Cremia laughed a little as she continued harnessing the carriage, "But I mean _really_, the things fifteen-year-olds can get into, I mean, doesn't she realize you're _eighteen_? A whole three years older! Though, I really think you should try talking to her. Maybe then she'll stop avoiding you like the plague!" Cremia chuckled to herself, and then spun on her heel to face a fully mounted Link. Her smile faltered.

"What, Link? Out for an early morning ride? Though, I don't think that's too smart with your arm—" he heard the fond voice stop short. Cremia narrowed her eyes at him—she was probably already suspicious. Link hesitated,

"Er—wouldn't you rather be resting in bed?" Link responded. He shifted slightly—he knew perfectly well that the young woman could see right through him. Cremia snorted.

"I could say the same to you, Link! A fracture like yours doesn't heal in a fortnight. And don't you think I'm just going to let you leave—and on a horse? Honestly! How exactly did you plan on controlling Epona with your arm in the shape that it is?" It was amazing how fast her disposition could change; she was scolding now, as though she was lecturing her baby sister. Link grimaced.

He pitied Cremia's husband, the Ikana knight, Shiro, for having to put up with this all the time. That along with running through Clocktown on his off hours, attempting to comply with his six-month pregnant wife's absurd demands.

Amused, Link remembered her first craving—Shiro had spent an entire day sniffing the ground of the Deku Palace, searching for three-leaved, and _only_ three-leaved, green-speckled purple mushrooms. So Shiro spent _every_ hour of the day searching for the Four-cursed mushrooms. At first they'd all believed they were a figment of Cremia's imagination, before discovering the Gerudo pirates had the whole species. Poor Shiro fought his way through the Giant-forsaken fortress, and returned with the mushrooms three days later only to find his wife's craving had passed. And that was one of the better occasions.

Shiro had officially been exhausted after that event, and had excused himself from the construction. Rubbing his arm distantly, Link thought back to what had happened.

It started when Link was happening through Clocktown. That was when people told him the whole construction team was at Romani Ranch. Gossip alive as ever, they claimed that while the whole team was there, barely anything was getting done. Link had assumed at the time that this was because there simply weren't enough workers—Romani Ranch was big, and who knew how much construction there was?

So Link had come to Romani Ranch, and offered to be of some help; construction couldn't be all that difficult. Though he realized as soon as he got there it had nothing to do with numbers, more of the fact that the entire squad was, well—all muscle and no intelligence. It probably was because their old leader had retired and now no one seemed to have any clue as to what was going on. But Link pitched in anyway; he was always happy to lend a hand. If only he hadn't been so easily deceived, then maybe his arm would still be functional…

-----------------------

That day, the sun was blazing down in a cheerful manner—not at all appreciated by the sweat-stained and tired crew of builders. As of the moment, they were eating a quick lunch before getting back to work. The team was currently working on two projects: expanding the barn and building a few new sheds. Wiping his face on his shoulder, Link sauntered away from the group. Fatigue claimed him. Groaning, he threw himself down with his back on the grass, taking in deep breaths of air. The grass tickled his skin, seeing as to how he'd removed the shirt underneath his green tunic. Link rested his forearm over his eyes. The worn out young man attempted to relax; his muscles were aching from a fortnight of labour_. Maybe, _he thought wearily, _if the team actually knew what they were doing and stopped coming to their "Champion" every two seconds with questions, we'd be done by now._ Ah, well. They'd work with what they had. It was a moment before he sensed the presence of someone drawing near him. Slightly raising his arm, he fought back the urge to moan. Grinning down at him was pretty young Romani.

"Hey you! Tired already? Oh, c'mon, you're such _a strong _man!!" she teased down at him. Sitting up he cocked an eyebrow at her, thus throwing Romani into a fit of giggles. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He lay back down—he had a feeling he knew what was coming. This wouldn't be the first time. Link re-adjusted his arm to cover his eyes again.

"Awww! Are you ignoring me, Link? And I had a special job, just for you!" While Link could hear the pout in the fifteen- year-old's voice, he didn't respond. He didn't really feel like doing whatever ridiculous task Romani would put him to. _Why me? _There were plenty of other people around here. And even more were able young men. He felt a nudge on his side. "C'mon Link! Pretty please?" Sighing, Link got to his feet, pushing himself up with his gauntleted hands.

"What is it Romani?" he asked tiredly as he adjusted his forest-green Kokiri hat. Whatever it was, Link seriously doubted it actually required any extra help. Rather, Romani had recently taken to just flagging him down and dragging him around with her wherever she went. Cremia and Shiro seemed to find this highly amusing. Though Link noticed the couple watching them, he always felt anything but. Link didn't mind Romani; she was a _friend,_ if not a little sister of sorts. At the time he hadn't known what Romani thought—he wasn't even sure if he_ wanted _to know now. Almost as if she had read his thoughts, Romani giggled at him and responded,

"Don't worry, silly! This requires a big tough_ man _to do!!" she winked flirtatiously at him (later, Link realized he would_ never _understand why) and began walking towards one of the almost complete sheds. Against what he would learn was his better judgment, Link followed suit_. After all, _he convinced himself,_ what harm can a fifteen-year-old possibly bring? _He caught up to Romani and was able to fall in pace with her.

"So what exactly do you need me to do?" He asked, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. Pushing sweaty straw-blond bangs from his eyes, he saw Romani smiling sweetly at him.

"You'll see," she answered coyly. Link noticed her attempt to discreetly catch the eye of a small group of teenaged girls. Romani's "secrecy" was the most obvious thing possible to Link's sharp blue eyes however. But that was just him. Sitting in the shade of a large tree, the girls were giggling and—increasing Link's feeling of foreboding—watching and whispering as he and Romani passed. Link recognized a few of them as Romani's friends, others as the daughters of some of the construction workers_. Why do girls always do that?_ Link wondered irritably as he watched Romani stifle a silly laugh. Link really did roll his eyes this time. Romani paused for a minute when they reached the shed. Swiveling around to him, she exclaimed,

"C'mon! Let's go inside!" she grasped his hand as Link allowed himself to be led into the shed. Link swore he could hear the group let out a particularly excited squeal_. Not good_.Link squeezed his eyes shut. _By the peak of the Mountain,_ he thought to himself,_ what have I gotten myself into? _

Romani stopped in the middle of the unfinished shed and spun around on the spot. After taking but a few steps into the shed, Link stopped short. The dim shed was reasonably large, bigger than the average one for sure. Just by turning around, Link could see his footprints in the thin layer of sawdust on the floor. Around them, discarded pieces of scrap wood and forgotten tools lay. Link glanced up. He noticed a tiny crack in the ceiling, allowing a small stream of light to pour in to the otherwise unlit shack._ That's not supposed to be there…_Standing aside, he was unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do. Or if he wanted to do anything.

"So, um, what was it you wanted me to do?" the young man asked apprehensively. Romani eyes sparkled. _A definite danger sign_.

"Oh Link," Romani began breathlessly, "from the day you came and saved our cows from those horrid creatures eight years ago, I just _knew _you were something special!" Romani had twirled around again. She was now talking to the air around her, hands clasped in front. "I mean, you came, so smart, so strong, so _courageous,_ and you didn't just save the ranch, but all of Termina! And now, you've come back to help the Ranch, just like you have so many times before…no matter how busy you are, you always come to the rescue…" Romani said this all in a dreamy voice, her eyes full of passion and possibility. Link could feel his face colouring. She was greatly exaggerating the truth. And all those times, he'd been acting purely on instinct…he didn't even know why she was saying all these things…

The growing feeling of dread was now threatening to explode.

"Umm…Romani…" he stammered. He wasn't quite sure what to say to her. But she solved that problem by bursting out suddenly,

"Link, I've always believed in true love, and I think I've found it!" Whirling suddenly, Romani beamed at him, taking a step towards Link. She slowly continued to advance towards Link. He countered by walking backwards, and he noticed that their steps fell into sync. "Link, I know you have to feel the same way, why else would you keep coming back? It's okay Link—I feel the same way too!" Utterly confused, words failed him. _What did I do to deserve this? _He may have conquered dungeons, temples, defeated fiends, monsters, and demons but he had noidea on how to deal with a love-sick fifteen-year-old girl. What in Nayru's name was he supposed to do? He flung up his hands in front of him.

"Romani! I—look, you're mistaken! I, I mean…" Without warning, Romani flung herself at Link. Arms wrapped around his neck; Link's instinctive reaction was to allow himself to fall backwards as he felt her lips brush his.

And everything went crashing downhill from there.

Literally.

The added force of Romani on him slammed him against the wall, and Link literally felt the vibrations ripple throughout the newly-made barn walls. _Damn, _Link already knew what was coming. In his mind's eye he could see the ceiling crack burst open. Without a moment's hesitation, Link threw his right arm over his head, and grabbing Romani, he dragged her to the ground with himself. He enveloped her in a one-armed bear hug, just as the first pieces of lumber came crashing down. He gripped tighter as the rest of the entire shed came colliding down on top of them. Link prayed his Golden Gauntlets would keep Romani safe. Link felt more weight crashing down on them, and a particularly large piece landed on the raised arm covering his head. A sharp jolt shot through his arm. Eyes watering in pain, he was forced to drop the injured limb and expose his head. Waiting for the last of the debris to fall, Link tensed. When no more sounds were heard, he risked a glance at the wreckage around them. _Well, there's a week's worth of work gone to waste… _

------------------------

Link remembered all too clearly the after math; Romani's stuttering explanation about the dare from her friends…Romani's burning shame…Cremia lecturing Romani on "controlling herself"…Cremia lecturing the other girls for doing those sorts of things in the first place…Cremia yelling at the workers for not doing a proper job of building the shed ("We ran out of nails!" the louts had protested)…Cremia thanking Link profusely for protecting Romani…Cremia…well, it had been one of the soon-to-be-mother's off days. Link, though irritated, wasn't one to hold a grudge. Romani thought otherwise though; she'd been driven away from him by self-imposed disgrace and embarrassment. _Avoiding me like the plague is right. _

Snapping back to the present, Link reassured her, "It doesn't hurt anymore." Unfortunately for him, Cremia refused to give up. She glared at him a moment before storming towards him. Bracing himself for her tantrum, he was amazed when it didn't come. Then, without warning, her arm shot out and gripped his tender elbow like a pincer. Immense pain seared through him, it felt like his entire right side was on fire. The fire didn't just stop at his fractured elbow though; all the other wounds he had retained from that day flared up as well. Biting back a yelp, Link realized perhaps it would have been more bearable if he _was_ healed, but he wasn't going to let her know that. The gauntlets had protected his forearms during the cave-in, but the joints had remained weak and exposed. Those and the rest of his body. And worse yet—the builders had used up the entire red potion supply for minor injuries ("Splinter!" a dope had cried desperately as he showed off his splinter-free finger). Gritting his teeth he said determinedly,

"Don't—know—what—your—talking—about—doesn't—hurt—a bit." Shooting him an exasperated look, she let go. Not before giving his arm a final harsh squeeze. A breath escaped him as soon her back was turned, careful not to be too loud. Cremia looked back at the Champion over her shoulder.

"If you want to leave so bad, then the least I can do is come with you and make sure you're all right." Link was about to protest; there was no need for her to strain herself, but Cremia added, "I have to make a delivery anyway, and I wouldn't mind having someone along for the journey—especially on a morning like this!" And with that the expecting mother heaved herself into the front of the delivery cart, gripping the reins. Link frowned.

"I don't think…" Cremia whipped her head around.

"You're in no position to be lecturing me about resting up. And besides Link, I'm pregnant—not handicapped!" Cremia glowered at him, daring him to say different. Then, in a frighteningly sudden change of mood, she added airily, "besides, doesn't the fresh air just smell _wonderful_?"

Terrified that anything he said would throw her back into a tantrum, Link kept his mouth shut. Women getting together and acting silly was frustrating, but dealing with a moody pregnant one was enough to drive a man mad.

* * *

Cremia was riding alongside Epona, chattering away in idle conversation. Though one would hardly call it conversation, considering she was the one doing most of the talking. Link didn't mind though, he had always found just staying silent and listening strangely soothing. The crisp morning air was doing wonders to wake him up; so much that he didn't even mind the forlorn skies above him. They were traveling down the old Milk Road; its trail worn with the groove from the wheels of the trusty delivery horse and cart. Thinking back, Link could remember when it had held together even after traveling through "ugly country". The damned raiders had learned their lesson; Link had made sure of that.

Today though, Link doubted they would have been able to move their cart any faster. The path was becoming steadily muddy. Finally there was rain, but it was only spitting out occasionally. The scent of it only added to the serenity. The scenery itself was a sight to behold; light mist now swirled around the peaks of the Goron Mountains. Link found himself drifting in and out of listening to Cremia. His mind was more on the trip he'd be making back to Hyrule.

"…pity the whole village, you know, living on the Great Bay shore like that. It's only spitting now, but just you wait! By Majora's Mask, I know it'll be pouring soon, like a waterfall…" _The Lost Woods are bursting with waterfalls, springs, rivers…_Link thought absently.

"…and those folk on Mountain Village, they'll no doubt be freezing as well! Sometimes I wonder what they were thinking, all them moving high up there, honestly! Eight years ago—back when you first came, remember?—no one would have thought of moving up there. Well, at least now that place can live up to its name, it's teeming with people now…not just that old Smithy place up there, with that man and ogre fellow…" Link knew all to well the Lost Woods was swarming with ogres. That and every other beast imaginable.

"…will be so pleased to get this shipment. Stockpot Inn is no doubt packed with travelers waiting out the rain. And now that Clocktown has expanded so much, I wouldn't want to be working to serve the folks there! Though I heard the King himself has a delegation down there—that must be exciting. That's why this shipment is so special! Plus little Taru will enjoy the surprise bottle I have, just for him! Can't believe he's already a whole year old, bet Anju has her hands full…doesn't really matter though, she treats her son like royalty! Can't deny him anything, oh, she'll regret it later…always waiting on him…"

_The Princess is waiting for me,_ Link reminded himself, _I have to get back to Hyrule soon, I don't want to make her wait too long…_Instantly his mind was filled with memories of Hyrule: the lively Market Town, the cool serenity of the Zora Fountain, the brotherhood of being with the Gorons…and then, as through being dragged through a nightmare, he remembered Ganondorf. The hate, the despair, the fear, the uncertainty…Link shuddered. Even spending four years of his life in Termina and the other four traveling hadn't erased those memories. The _rest_ of Hyrule didn't remember anything from the alternative future, save the Princess, the Sages and himself. It didn't matter though; the Sages resumed their previous duties; sworn to secrecy. And the Princess—the wise, beautiful Princess Zelda—had gone back to _her_ duties as a Royal Heir, whatever it was that they did. She too had sworn herself to secrecy of the Battle of Time.

She claimed that Hyrule as a kingdom would be thrown into a frenzy at the thought of a possible tyrant overthrowing the monarchy. The Gerudos would suffer the most—no doubt an unjust racism would spread if Hyrule discovered the desert king had tried to take over. And on top of that, he made it last for seven years—_that_ alone would be hard for the people to believe anyway. Link had objected briefly, but quickly regained his silence. Princess Zelda was of the monarchy—she probably knew best for the kingdom. Even if that meant they could hardly ever meet. But whenever there was a procession in town, whenever she would address the public…the Princess Zelda would catch his eye and he couldn't help but smile—simply knowing someone else _knew_ with him was comfort enough. Even if the rest of Hyrule forgot what Ganondorf had done to their kingdom.

Ganondorf was the whole reason Link would be returning to Hyrule again. Though he spent most of his time traveling between the two kingdoms, now was the time to stay for a bit longer than usual. In exactly nine days time, it would be the first anniversary of Ganon's defeat. Last year, Link had returned, and Princess Zelda had invited him along with the Sages to a private ceremony. One of the few occasions Link had actually had been able to talk to her privately. It had been to honour that on that very day, seven years into the alternative future, the Hero of Time—Link—imprisoned the great evil of Ganondorf. It had been a very solemn ceremony, as all eight of them reflected on memories of the Battle of Time.

This year though, Link suspected it ought to be a tad more cheerful. This time they would be celebrating the anniversary of Ganondorf's _defeat_; they would be celebrating a year of prosperity after the King of Gerudo's imprisonment. Maybe the rest of Hyrule didn't realize it, but they were a very fortunate kingdom. They had a wonderful princess, six powerful sages and a young man who could wield the Master Sword to protect them. Termina was lucky too; but no one in Hyrule—and that meant _no one_, including the Sages and Zelda—knew Link was also the Champion of the Giants. Link hadn't cared to share that bit of information. And he hadn't bothered to share it when he was pledging his allegiance to Hyrule.

Nor did he tell them he already pledged allegiance to Termina.

_Ah well, the two kingdoms are on good terms. There's no need to worry._

Life in Hyrule had continued as though the Battle of Time never happened. When Link mused over it, he realized technically it never _had_ happened; it was nothing more than an alternative future—one that the civilians would or could never see. Link called it the Battle of Time because it seemed most appropriate, considering that Time had been the force Link had to overcome in order to slay the monster. Time kept Ganondorf locked up; Time had to pass for Link to draw the Master Sword; Time…Link stopped himself. He didn't know why he even bothered to name the battle at all. No one else would ever know. Link had left Hyrule almost right after Ganonondorf's defeat; he needed some time alone. Termina and the Battle of the Masks had come after. He found he'd grown quite attached to this neighboring kingdom to Hyrule. Maybe that was a mistake. But then…it wasn't like the citizens of Hyrule particularly cared if he left. No one remembered.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts he watched the pretty young mother next to him, and thought of all the Terminese people he had come to care for. Smiling softly, he thought to himself, _I'll be back soon; I can never stay away from either country too long…_

* * *

Finally they reared into Clocktown, making sure to pass through Shiro's gate. Cremia shared a quick kiss with her working husband before carrying on forwards. Link exchanged a grin with him; the once-invisible knight and he had become good friends. Considering Link had been the one to unknowingly introduce the two, it made sense. In all honesty, Link hadn't meant for the two to fall in love; Link had just pitied the lone knight who stood guard at Ikana Canyon for no reason. So Link had brought the fellow with him to Clocktown Milk Bar one night. That had also happened to be the night Cremia was making a delivery. What could he say? It had been love at first sight. That had been a good three years ago, back when Link was still living in Clocktown. And now Shiro was working at Clocktown as a knight—the man who was once invisible was now Captain of the Guard.

When they arrived, Link had to give up Epona to a town stable boy; rules in the town dictated that no one could have a horse unless on special business. It didn't bother Link too much; he trusted the community stables. He knew Epona would be all right. Epona however, hated not being with her master and put up quite the fight against the poor stable boy. Link grimaced to himself as Epona finally agreed to be led away (by five other stable boys)—no doubt Epona would make sure there was hell to pay for that.

Sliding into the cart next to Cremia, he took over the reins. As they entered into the friendly town, Link was welcomed with the usual noise of the lively town. He looked forward to meeting Anju and Kafei again; Link hadn't seen them since he'd arrived.

When he had first come to Termina, at about the age of ten, Link had done his part. He had been prepared to leave. Of course, after saving the kingdom and being dubbed Champion of the Giants, the King of Termina wasn't about to let Link leave. The King himself had offered Link a home, with the best education around, wealth…everything one could possibly imagine. But Link didn't need—didn't _want_—any of that. But he couldn't exactly go off on his own as a boy again—no one would accept that. In their eyes, he may have defeated Majora, but he _was_ still only ten.

Anju and Kafei, sensing his distress, had offered him a home as well. And though he yearned to travel, he eventually accepted the offer—after all, Hyrule no longer had need of their Hero. He remained with the newly married couple for the next four years, doing odd jobs here and there for the inn and Termina. Task after task, Link found it kept his mind occupied. He didn't spend restless nights because of the tasks; his dreams weren't tormented by the Battle of Time. At the age of fourteen, when most teenagers made the choice between continuing their education or not, Link declined. He left; and to this day he still spent his days travelling between Termina and Hyrule, occasionally wandering outside those two kingdoms. But he always returned—these countries were his home.

Smirking slightly, Link realized that seeing Kafei would probably mean partaking in one of the fool's crazy experiments. Kafei always was an eccentric fellow; never knew what he would do next. Even if he hadn't known anyone, Clocktown would still be an inviting place. Children laughing, cuccos squawking, adults were chattering…it was much like the Hyrule Market town. Closing his eyes for an instant, Link could just _taste_ the fresh home-made cooking, seeping out through open windows. Vendors held their foods up for sale as well, adding spices, sweets and other smells to the aroma. Returning to the task at hand, he deftly steered the horses to the familiar inn residing in East Clocktown. Link had pulled out his cloak and thrown it on before entering. He really didn't want people gawking at their "Champion".

While Link understood their gratitude that he had saved their land, he didn't feel there was a need for all the extravagances placed on him. In the eyes of the Terminese though, apparently there had been. Link still cringed at the dubbing day; all of the ridiculous feasts, clothes and titles….It was all unnecessary and much too elegant for Link's liking. Already content knowing that the Terminese were safe, that was all he really needed. But no, the King of Termina himself felt he had to come down. Link had wanted to refuse, but was afraid he'd sound rude. So he was forced to put up with it all. That was part of the reason he had been so happy to stay at the Ranch to get better from the shed cave-in; he didn't feel much like having to go to the community infirmary and being doted upon.

A sharp smack to his injured arm told Link he was drifting off again. Turning, he saw Cremia glaring at him. It didn't matter though; the horses had made this trip many times before obviously. They had brought the pair of them here without his help at all. _Sort of like Epona_. Perhaps, but Epona knew more than just a simple milk route. _A great much more._

Looking up, it once again hit him how vast the old Stockpot Inn had become. Now the biggest tavern in town, it had made quite a name for itself. Much to the relief of Anju, they no longer had to turn so many customers away.

"Link! Cremia!" a voice hollered from above. Craning his neck, Link could just make out Kafei on the topmost, fourth floor balcony. Link noticed the man had cuccos with him—as to why, Link couldn't figure out. Thinking back to before, Link corrected himself as he watched Kafei, amused. _The man _is_ an eccentric fellow_.

He waved merrily down at them. "I'll be right down!" Leaning down, Kafei grabbed a hold of what looked like the biggest cucco and stepped up on to the ledge….

_Oh no. _Alarmed, Link jumped from the cart.

"Damn fool," Link muttered under his breath.

In one swift motion, he whipped his cloak off and hollered, "You!" to the nearest person. Hurling his cloak at the startled man, he nodded upwards. The man grabbed a hold of Link's cloak. _For the love of Farore—don't you dare miss_, Link thought desperately to Kafei as the man jumped from the balcony without a care in the world.

Kafei, apparently, looked genuinely shocked that the cucco wouldn't support the weight of a full grown man. Kafei let go of his "support" and plummeted towards the stone ground. Link tensed. Everything seemed too fast for most to comprehend. Kafei had already passed the third floor…the second floor…the pair had just managed to spread out…first floor. Lucky for Kafei, Link's aim was true, and the man connected with the cloak—the pair hadn't even had time to brace themselves—generally unharmed from what could've been a fatal fall. Their make-shift cushion hadn't done _that_ much though. As soon as Kafei connected with his traveling cloak, a sharp sensation tore through Link as if someone had dealt a direct blow to his elbow with the Gilded Sword. Link was forced to let go of the material; causing Kafei to tumble off and whack the ground.

_By the Four Giants—why me? _Link roared inside his head. Fine, so he should have known it was going to happen. That didn't help in the least. His goddess-damned arm was just trying to heal and _no one_ would goddess-damned leave it alone He felt his hand go numb as he clutched the throbbing arm. It wasn't as if it was his _worst_ injury; he'd experienced much worse during the Farore-forsaken days of Ganondorf's hellish reign. It was more of a dull, aching pain that just persisted, nothing more. And it had been awhile since he'd had an injury like this, spending his days traveling had honed his skills in fighting. But the event in which this occurred had been so _peculiar_; he'd been caught completely off-guard.

Link felt strong hands on his shoulder, steering him into the Inn.

"Guardians!" he heard a familiar female voice curse. "What happened to the poor boy? Kafei, what did you _do _to him?"

"I'm sorry Anju, but I was in the middle of an experiment—and…" Link heard the eccentric man stammer.

"And _nothing_! We raised this boy for _four_ years and you go and abuse him…"

"I didn't abuse him! I'm sorry—to both of you! Really, I want Link to be okay as well…see, I'll go get the supplies…" Link distantly made out footsteps padding across the hard-wood floors.

"Get the supplies, honestly! By what tides of the Ocean does that man think he's doing…?" Anju's voice drifted into incoherent muttering. Link, still in a semi-conscious state, merely heard Kafei return a few moments later.

He was vaguely aware of Anju wrapping up his arm in bandages and draping a sling around his neck. Wincing, he looked up at the woman who had been his care-taker for quite the while. He sighed; when he first came to Termina he'd been unaware of the fact that people saw him as a child. In his eyes, he may have _looked_ like a child; but his mind was that of an adult—someone who'd faced evil and come out on the better end. Link lowered his eyes and stared at his left hand, where he knew he bore the mark of the Triforce of Courage. The better end…sometimes Link wasn't sure if that was true. He'd saved Hyrule, maybe…but he'd lost seven years in the process. _But the Princess let me regain them_, he thought. And he was glad for that. He was—really. At least that was what he told himself.

* * *

For the second time that day, Link had snuck into the stables. This time though, he succeeded. Link reminisced on how simple it had been. He'd just had to creep past Anju and Cremia (who had been having tea and gossiping while Link was supposed to be resting). It had taken a bit of stealth, but as soon as he hit the gates he was free. Thinking it would ease the guilt; Link had left a brief explanation that he'd be gone for a while—longer than usual at that.

All of that had been quite a few hours ago. It was late morning by now; the sun was peaking through the forest. He was now deep in the heart of the Lost Woods. After coaxing Epona from the town stables, he's made off at top speed. Or as fast as one could go with one arm wrapped in a sling. The pang of guilt struck him for the second time that day, which was unfortunate because it usually didn't. He assumed it was because recently he had had to leave after they'd been taking care of him; he had depended on them for a while. Usually he took care of himself, and then just up and left…Link smirked slightly at the memory of the first time he had snuck away. Way back when he'd been fourteen and he had left Anju and Kafei's Inn; once again leaving nothing but a note.Link realized as he thought back to the letter he'd left recently,_ old habits_ _die hard_. Anju had let him have it the next time he came around again; she would no doubt do it again, even if he was eighteen now.

The Lost Woods were very beautiful; once one knew their way around as well as Link did. Though heavily forested, the little sunlight still managed to crack through the breaks in the tree. Small rays of light lit up the forest floor, catching the glistening raindrops that clung to the deep green leaves. And on the off chance one entered a clearing, the light broke right through the trees into the center of the clearing. It wasn't just the sights either—all around one could here gentle chirping of crickets and birds all around.

That and the occasional unidentifiable sounds from goddesses-knew-what. But, once more, when one was as accustomed to these woods as well as Link was, there was no need to worry. The last time something had gone wrong had been with Skullkid; and that that had been eight years ago. No one had bothered him since. Though Link suspected it might have had to do with Skullkid; the imp probably told his friends to leave Link alone.

A warm draft played across Link's face, causing his blonde bangs to fall into his eyes. Instinctively he put a hand over his hat. Link was very fond of his green Kokiri hat; it was a reminder of a past life.

"Whoa!" Link whispered urgently to Epona. "Careful, girl—I only have one hand!" As though in understanding, his faithful stallion instantly regained a steady pace. Link smiled softly, he would have stroked a hand through her mane—if he actually had a hand to spare. He knew Epona was being extra patient with him; his horse was a war-horse, after all. Born and bred to run as fast as the wind and stand strong with their masters—and Epona had been the fiercest of the litter. Link laughed gently at his closest friend.

"Poor girl, bet your just itching to buck a cripple like me off, eh?" Whining, Epona threw back her head as if to say, _as if._ Link chuckled. Leaning forwards, he rested his cheek in her silver mane.

Drifting into a dream-like state, it was a while before he noticed that the wind was tugging at his hat. Waking up, he threw his only good hand over the hat again. The breeze had grown a lot stronger; it was a miracle his hat hadn't blown off. Tensing, Link pulled out his Gilded Sword from its scabbard. He was suddenly very aware of his surroundings. He'd have preferred his bow and arrows, but managing those would be all but impossible with only one hand.

Link _sensed_ it before he saw anything—it was just an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Years of traveling taught him to listen to this sixth sense. Link studied the ground below him, and his eyes widened.

There. A skeleton lay strewn about the ground; its skull still attached. A few others were around, thrown about just as carelessly. Curious, Link urged Epona closer. Epona complied, trotting towards the yellowed bones. He bent forward, scrutinizing the carcass, confused. Looking up, Link realized while dozing off he'd entered unfamiliar territory. Link noticed something else too. Back when he first left Termina, a little light had begun to show. Now everything seemed to have fallen back to the sinister shade of gray. An ominous curtain of mist perturbed the air and clung to his skin; obscuring his far-sight vision.

He was Lost.

_No, Epona's smarter that_…then what had happened?

The ground began to shake. Slowly at first, then gradually, more violent.

Link was perplexed; it wasn't too often when he was in a position where he was mounted _and_ one of his arms was dysfunctional. _Damn_. Link tightened his legs around his steed's flanks. _The Goddesses aren't on my side today._ He had never been more thankful that Epona knew not to bolt. If she had…Link didn't know what would've happened. The ground was shaking so badly now he could feel his legs slipping from the saddle. Something sent a shiver of uncertainty through his back. Glancing downwards, he watched as the skeletons arched forwards, trembling like mad. Eerily, the jaws were beginning to open and close around him, unhinging fully each time. Link realized they were laughing at him. The skeletons were now arched so far forwards they had managed to reach their feet. The shaking had stopped now.

And it wasn't falling back down.

With unnatural speed, the skeletons lunged. Swinging bone clubs, they attempted to knock him off. Epona evaded them all easily, giving Link an opportunity to strike. Finding his center balance, he raised his sword and easily smashed through the first. Reverse-cutting, he whipped through the ones attempting to grab him from behind. Link could _smell_ the putrid stench of rotten bones as they flew everywhere. One of the Skeletons swung a particularly thin club at him—Link met the blow with his Gilded sword and slid the club into his cross-guard, trapping it. Slipping out of the entrapment, he thrust the tip of the blade at the demon. The Skeleton crumpled. More came at him, Epona dancing just out of their reach. Amazingly, Link hadn't fallen off his horse yet. Unfortunately though, quite a few managed to smack him with enormous bone clubs. Grimacing, Link knew that he would pay for ignoring the blows when the bruises formed later. Finally he hacked through the last of them. Link slumped back into the saddle, baffled at the surprise attack.

Until the shaking started again.

An enormous crack ruptured throughout the forest floor. Tensing, Link steadied Epona for a moment as he watched what happened next in an odd fascination.

The loud moan came first. Following that was a creature that made the hoards of Skeletons pale in comparison. A large arm rose from the depths of the crack, carrying one of the most immense clubs Link had ever had the displeasure of seeing. The arm carrying it was a very white arm. A very _bony_ arm. An arm, Link noticed, that looked exactly like the previous Skeletons had, but much, _much_ larger. As the club rose, the rest of the body came crawling out behind it. The body was a Skeleton.

And from the look of it, the skeleton of some vast ape-like creature, towering over Link and Epona.

_Damn._

The Ape Skeleton took a massive swing at Link. Epona, unfortunately, seemed to still be in awe of the mammoth being. This resulted in the club meeting the mounted young man, and tossing him off like a rag doll. Groaning, Link hurled himself sideways just as the Ape Skeleton attempted to pound on top of him. Forcing himself to his feet, Link wiped the blood that was obscuring his vision. It was all Link could do to dodge this horrid beast; no distance weapon seemed to penetrate its hard bone. And he could hardly get close enough to attempt slashing it with his Gilded Sword. _Epona, _Link willed. _Stay there_. There was no need for both of them to suffer a beating at this monster's hands. Epona seemed to have different ideas though. Galloping forwards, Epona rushed to her master. She was a good distance away though, and the smaller Skeletons beat her to it.

Now they were crawling from the ground, and like Stalfos, they just kept _coming_. Having just taken a thrashing already—and narrowly dodging many more alike to it—Link wasn't prepared to let the Skeletons slay him. Just as he fended off a pack of Skeletons and rolled through the Ape's legs to avoid getting clobbered, Epona rushed towards him. She didn't just come for him either. She crashed through the Skeletons and swerved around the Ape's legs, confusing it. His steed halted for a fraction of a second before Link. It was fine by him though—he only needed a fraction of a second. Scrambling atop his horse with his arm, Link just managed to saddle himself up. Epona burst forward with renewed strength. _Oh goddesses, I hope she doesn't expect me to stay and fight._ During the Battle of Time she had learned to stand strong beside her master and even support him in his hours of need. In fact, if Link didn't know better, he'd say she'd come to enjoy fighting. _She _is_ a war horse._

Though she did indeed enjoy battling, Epona also could tell when her master was in danger. Sensing this was one of those moments, she headed to flee this area. _Good girl. _The Skeletons seemed reluctant to let them go though. They continued to drag themselves up from the ground, stalling the man and his horse.

So Link kept fighting, aided by his great war-horse. Slash. Strike. Parry. Thrust. Link continued with the limited techniques he could utilize while mounted and crippled. He couldn't even use his pommel thanks to his bloody right arm. They were coming faster now. And in larger groups. Link's muscles were groaning in the process; they still ached with bruises since the shed cave-in incident.

Somewhere through the garbled noises of the skeletons—he heard it. A soft sizzling sound, growing louder by the second. Link whirled around, nearly too late. A skeleton was coming at him, but this one was different. It was a light bluish colour, but that wasn't what caught Link's attention.

Its skull was a live bomb.

Using his leg, he kicked a nearby Skeleton towards the Bomb-Skeleton. As soon as they connected—when they were mere _inches_ from Epona—the blue Skeleton exploded. Link was shocked. Not nearly as shocked as Epona though. Rearing on her hind legs—Link had to throw his weight forward so as not to fall off—she sprinted off in the furthest direction away from the demons. Crouching as low as he could on Epona, he squeezed his eyes shut. They were watering in pain, and every time he attempted to open them they instantly dried out, Epona was going so fast. Pressing down even further, he felt the weight on his fractured arm. But he refused to care; the important thing was getting his steed under control.

"_EPONA!_" Link roared. But his horse refused to listen to her master—she just kept running. Link continued to shout uselessly. His throat was burning in pain, but he could care less. If Epona didn't stop, Link would be dealing with a lot worse. Epona was racing alongside a high area of the forest, and as they ascended Link watched the vast ditch below the plateau grow steeper and steeper. As if mocking him, he felt his legs start to slip. He hadn't even had time to sheath his sword, and he didn't dare now. If he tried at this speed, he would probably miss. And Link did _not_ need any more injuries. So it was all he could do to grip his sword with all the strength he possessed. Just as he was gripping Epona with his legs, and pressing his injured arm into his chest with the same amount of strength. He was throbbing all over from the bashing at the battle; he could feel his heart pounding in his throat. He was slipping farther and farther down his saddle. Panic was beginning to course through his veins.

His legs were done merely mocking him.

It happened so quickly Link didn't have time to feel surprise—his legs let go entirely, and Link felt himself plunge downwards. _Din, Nayru, Farore—protect me! _Link only just had time to throw his sword down ahead of him.He plummeted downhill afterwards, rolling through the ditch. He thanked every deity he knew he managed to lose the sword before tumbling off his horse. Otherwise his suffering would be much greater—and Link didn't think he could handle that at the moment. Sharp rocks and branches stabbed at him in from every direction as he rolled downwards. They pressed against open gashes and sores from the battle and cave-in. Spinning faster and faster, Link wasn't even aware of the new wounds ripping through him.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, he came to a sudden halt.

Staggering to his feet, Link leaned against the nearest tree he could find. Dimly he realized there was no point in the effort—he blacked out as soon as his head connected with the bark.

* * *

A/N: Uh, the Cremia's cravings thing…totally random. Don't ask. Hmm…I ought to warn you now, it's only going to become darker from here on out…hope you'll still be interested! And if you are…well, you know how to let me know… 


	2. An Unjust Persecution

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **For those who have played the Castlevania series (though I take this moment to remind you—you needn't to understand my fic), You'll notice I've made some serious changes to the CV characters…some of them coming to a point where they're OC. With regards to Carrie Fernandez, I've bumped up her age to 16. I realize this is a big jump from the original 12 in the game. _But_ I've always kind of thought she was just a little _young_ to go journeying into the depths of Castlevania, as opposed to Link in Hyrule, which held a whole different atmosphere. If you_ have_ played and you don't like the changes I've made to the characters, I apologize. Though I assure you I tried my best not to mutilate the characters; I just gave them some realistic personality in context to their situations. For those of you who have played Castlevania I do hope you'll come to accept the changes. Uhh…and just as a pre-warning, various characters from the Castlevania series will be making _cameos_ per sae in my fic. (Wonder if Castlevania fans can spot them, eh?)

Again, I ask those of you who have played the game: _please_ do not reveal any twists that occur in the plot of the Castlevania game. Thanks in advance!

BTW: Uhh…this chapter will also be somewhat…violent. Furthermore, some people may find this chapter offensive, but I've tried to make sure it wasn't extremely so. I don't hold anything against the Church, and whatever any character thinks are not necessarily my views, but theirs. If there are any faults, personally I think it's those of the people of the Medieval Era and their assimilation—not the religion itself.

**SUMMARY:**

When Link finds himself cursed in the desolate land of Walachia, he learns there is only one way to end it: journeying to the legendary Castlevania itself…

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ANYTHING from the Castlevania world. Well, I do own the Claytons and all the random orphans/children that show up… and Carrie's friends…

PRONOUNCIATION KEY: Traian (TRY-en), Felix (FAY-leex), Winde (just the air is blowing kind of "wind" in medieval style, I hope)

* * *

_**Chapter Two: An Unjust Persecution**_

* * *

_**DAY ONE: MORNING**_

Though _another_ bleak day had begun in the land of Walachia—as it had so many days before—birds still sung to the early morning sun. As they crooned in their mantra, one could here the Church folk gathering in a hymn of their own. Praising their Lord, the people joined as one in the Mass. It was extraordinary to the eyes of the people. The rich and poor alike united under one God, and it held them together despite their differences.

But not everyone was at the Church on this day of Rest. A few individuals stayed behind, one of which was busying herself with not-so-religious tasks at the village Orphanage.

The silver knife came crashing down, slicing off the heads. Raised once more, it didn't hesitate to continue its messy work. The juice clung to it, dripping over the next batch. Carrie Fernandez grimaced; _she_ wasn't looking forwards to supper tonight. People claimed that if you did something yourself the final product was more enjoyable in the end. _Yeah, sure._ With a sigh, the sixteen-year-old dumped the hacked-up green cabbages into a nearby bowl. Rolling up her slightly ruffled sleeves, she reached and she pulled over the tomatoes she was supposed to chop up next.

"Bloody hell," she grumbled to herself. "Don't see why _I_ have to cut the vegetables,"

So maybe she hadn't joined Ada and Henry on their weekly attendance of Mass. She hardly thought skipping out deemed the punishment of slicing vegetables. Carrie sighed. It wasn't just weekly attendances anymore. The Church seemed to be having a Mass gathering nearly everyday now. It was all in light of the Bishop's speech, and all the bloody attacks…Carrie shuddered. Now was not the time to think of that. Lifting the knife, she prepared to drop it on the awaiting tomatoes.

As soon as she dropped the knife, she felt something shove her.

"Hey—ouch! Dammit!" she cried out after the razor-edge knife missed the tomatoes and scraped her finger. There was utter silence now; Carrie had scared off the birds with her sudden outburst. Carrie whirled around, swinging the knife dangerously. Lowering it, she noticed a fair girl the same age as her standing behind.

The young woman had silky brownish-blond hair that came down to her waist. Her large eyes were emerald green that shone with emotion. She was dressed in a shapeless night-gown that hung from her slim frame. Her normally porcelain skin was flushed with a fever that refused to break. Carrie chuckled mentally to herself. _Beth still looks pretty even when she's sick_.

Beth looked intently at the other girl's wounded finger for a moment—probably examining for any permanent damage. Carrie herself was fascinated in odd way. Realizing it indeed had been a very near miss—even a fraction of an inch closer could have sliced her finger off—she felt a tiny bout of relief. It wasn't enough to squash out the pain though. Lifting her apologetic face, Beth cried out to Carrie,

"Oh my Goodness, Carrie! I—I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I…I just wanted a glass of water…I'm so sorry," she dropped her head, unsatisfied with her response. Carrie rubbed her friend's shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay Beth. Why don't you go back up to bed? I'll bring you up a whole meal as soon as I patch myself up, all right?" she said gently. Beth shook her head—then stopped quickly. No doubt the illness was giving her a brutal headache. Grasping the pitcher on the counter with fever-weak hands she said,

"It's fine. You should go take care of all that blood. I'm getting better; I got out of bed to get a drink for myself!" Cough interrupting her laugh, Beth poured herself a glass with shaky hands and set the jug back down. As she shuffled out of the kitchen, Carrie forgot her tolerant tone.

Glaring at the knife, she slumped against the kitchen counter. Jutting out her lower lip, she blew her strange spiky blue bangs out of her face. _Too bad Beth _can't_ be doing this, _Carrie thought sulkily. Cooking always had been difficult for Carrie; she could barely put together even the simplest of meals. Beth—a fellow orphan who'd been raised with Carrie—had always been an amazing cook; she made everything taste delectable. Unfortunately though, Beth had fallen ill and had been bed-ridden for quite a few days now.

That was, of course, how Carrie had gotten stuck with the bloody kitchen duties. Thinking on the alternative, Carrie came to the conclusion that she got the better end of the deal. She was allowed to miss Mass (again) and afterwards she got to take the children out to play in the sun for a bit. Skipping Church had been something Carrie was only to happy to do—she didn't need to go there, getting accusatory looks and hearing derisive mutterings about her. Honestly. For such a "pacified" bunch, the Winde Village sure could be crude.

Sucking on her wound, she abandoned the vegetables and left to get some bandages. As she crossed the orphans' rooms, Carrie couldn't help but grin. They hadn't even bothered to clean up—Ada would throw a fit when they returned. Laughing nervously, she realized it was nothing compared to what Ada would do when she saw _her_ room.

Upon reaching the said catastrophe, she kicked her way through to her dresser. Looking about, she decided that she didn't give a damn what Ada said. Various clothes, pieces of parchment and dressing things were strewn about the ground. The bed sheets lay in a crumpled heap, the dresser drawers hung open…her room would never stay neat, no matter what. _What the hell do I care about neatness?_

After tripping over numerous objects, she stumbled over to one of the oak dresser drawers. She reached into her drawer and extracted a roll of white cloth bandages. Fumbling, she was able to wrap a misshapen bandage around her index finger. She made a face at her wound, and then tossed the roll of bandages back into an open drawer. Glancing up at the sky through her window, she could tell everyone would be returning in a few minutes.

Heaving a sigh, she flung herself onto her bed. She didn't understand why anyone would want her to spend hours of their morning cooped up in a building listening to an old man drone _on_ about Sin and Commandments and whatever else in bloody Church. And it wasn't like there was any emotional appeal for her either. _So why must Ada and Henry make such a big deal over it_? She wondered, thinking back to earlier that morning. Ada and Henry had been her guardians for a good decade now.

If she reached back into memories far enough, Carrie could recall the days of her first six years. Cornell, Ada's elder brother, had taken care of her then—seeing as to how Ada had been merely fourteen when the Orphanage was first opened. Carrie had been one of the first children to arrive. That was as much as Cornell would say about the day she was left with the Orphanage.

_One of the first children… _she remembered her companions during those days, and particularly the other three who still remained at the orphanage as she did. For once she had turned sixteen, when most girls left to find simple work or get married, Ada and Henry had offered her and three other of the original orphans a place at the Orphanage. She'd get a job working with the children and she could live there too. Her three closest friends, Felix, Traian and Beth all accepted the position as well.

_Too bad Tri and Felix had to go to Church though…_there was never anyone _around_ during the cursed Sunday mornings. They were too, under the care of Ada and Henry, and thus were open to what was expected of them.

While she loved and respected both Ada and Henry, sometimes they tried a bit _too _hard to "do what they thought was right". _Wish they'd just come off it, _Carrie thought as she thought back to that morning…

-----------------------

She stirred from a restful sleep. Someone was in her room. Eyelids fluttering open, she saw Henry standing before her bed, frowning down at the girl. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and threw back the covers. Raising her eyebrows, she looked up at him expectantly.

"Yes?" she prodded. Henry sighed and sat down at the foot of her bed, his back to her. His low blond ponytail hung from his head, reaching the man's collar. Of his _best_ clothes. This could only mean one thing.

"Are you coming today?" From his tone of voice, Carrie could tell he already knew the answer. She purposely stalled her response._ Here we go again._

"Coming to what?" she asked, voice resonating with mock innocence. Henry turned around, giving her an exasperated look—but he said nothing. Carrie looked away guiltily, hoping he would just give up. There was a long pause.

"No," Carrie responded finally. She groaned inwardly as soon as Henry opened his mouth. She knew what was coming.

"Carrie, I_ really _think you ought to come to Mass. You know as well as I do what people say about you. You're only encouraging the rumours—" Carrie could feel her temper rising.

"Encourage them? You think I'm_ encouraging_ them? You think I_ like _listening to all their bloody talk? You think I want them to believe I'm some sort of…some sort of—"

"Carrie, stop it—you know that's not true!"

"Dammit, Henry! Why do you have to be so bloody blind?" The young woman burst out as she leapt from the bed. She was glaring full-force at Henry. Henry, who too was on his feet, glowered back just as heatedly.

"Stop cursing! The children are awake!"

"Only so they can go to their damned Mass! You don't even know if they want to go!"

"Of course they do! You did when you were a child!" Henry fired at her.

"No—I didn't! I only went because I didn't know what I was doing! I know better now!" Carrie exclaimed.

"Know better, eh? So suddenly the Church isn't good enough for you?"

"Damn straight!"

Letting out a roar of frustration, Henry stormed from the room. Carrie was still glowering at the door even after he slammed it shut._ He ought to take more notice of my opinions…_

---------------------

_Why couldn't he be more like Cornell?_ _He understands._ Carrie thought to herself as she mulled over the memory of that morning. _He doesn't try and make me to come to Church every time there's Mass._ But then, Cornell had always been one of the most understanding people she knew. He was the primary father-figure to her. Subconsciously, Carrie's hand went to the Blue Crescent Moon Pendant that hung from her neck.

Carrie came out of her reverie as she heard the front door open. Laughter rang through the halls as the children raced amongst themselves. No doubt the younger ones were eager to go outside and play. Grinning, Carrie hoisted herself up off her bed and ran down the short flight of stairs. She was just as eager to go outside as they were. When she reached the bottom of the steps, she collided with someone in front of her. Looking up, she saw the surprised face of Henry. For a fleeting moment she thought he looked like he wanted to say something—but it passed as soon as it came. His fatherly face resumed its glare and Carrie mirrored the response. _He's so stubborn_, she thought angrily to herself.

She stood just outside the Cloakroom, though it was hardly big enough to have a title. It was merely a square room that held two rows of hooks on every wall—more than enough for the orphans. After that there stood a hall that held the staircase Carrie had just descended; the double doors to the large country kitchen; a hallway that led to the common room, dining room and study; another hallway that led down to the rooms used as classrooms for schooling.

Upstairs, the actual bedrooms of the Orphans weren't very big at all. Two beds each (with drawers underneath for clothing) and a dresser; that was all. Ada and Henry shared a room and those that lived and worked at the Orphanage—such as Carrie—had their own rooms, though those were even smaller than the orphan's.

Carrie stood waiting for the children to settle down, smoothing out the front of her simple peasant dress. It was off-white with a thin, smaller navy layer added overtop. It had a large collar and the skirt reached just past her knees. Underneath though, she wore the same colour navy stockings. As she rolled down the elbow length sleeves from before, she heard a noise from the kitchen door.

Shifting her gaze to the doors of the kitchen, Carrie saw a fair young woman in her early-thirties frowning at her. _Why's everyone in such a bad mood?_

"Carrie, didn't I ask you to cut the vegetables for today?" Ada asked in a disapproving voice. Carrie cringed. Snapping back at Henry was simple enough; the man lost his temper nearly as fast as she did. But Ada…Ada was more compassionate, more patient, more _understanding_; Carrie hated being angry at her. Wise but firm, she was wonderful to everyone. Carrie shifted slightly.

"I know, Ada, and I'm sorry—I really am! I…I'll finish cutting them before we go out." No sooner were the words out of her mouth than they were met with protests from the children.

"No—you can't! You promised to take us!"

"C'mon Ada, I'm sure she tried!"

"Look! Her finger! See? How's Carrie supposed to cut vegetables like that?"

"We have to go outside before it rains again! Please? We really want to play!"

"_Children_," Ada silenced them, "I _know_ Carrie was supposed to take you all out, but she made a promise and she has to keep it. Otherwise what kind of example is that for you little ones to follow—"

"We're _not_ little!"

"Yeah, we already know all that responsibility and consequence sh—"

"Danielle! You _do not_ curse in this household!" Ada cried, appalled. The eleven year old looked angry.

"Well, Carrie does—uh, not…" Carrie smirked slightly at Danielle, who was looking quite sheepish.

"Nice try," She mouthed to Danielle with a cheerful wink. Danielle grinned in relief back at her. As soon as Carrie's mouth opened to protest to Ada, the chorus of complaints started up again. Ada turned back to Carrie wearily. She shook her head slightly, silver-blue strands of hair flowing with the movement of her head.

"All right, just go. And keep them out till supper, you hear?" Carrie beamed in response. The children apparently noticed this and they cheered as one. Sprinting up the stairs, the whole lot of them—a good thirty—left to go get changed. The fifteen or so remaining, mainly the older ones, simply moved forwards, heading down the hall to the Common Room. Carrie didn't bother to grab a coat; instead she merely flipped up the collar of her dress. She fumbled for a moment though, as her hand still throbbed. _Damned finger._ She stepped into the fields, closing the door behind her.

As she waited outside in the cool morning air, she took in her placid surroundings. The Orphanage stood alone on an empty meadow. Encircling most of the Orphanage was a heavy forest; its depths pitch black and its other side unfathomable. On the one side that wasn't covered in forest, she could make out the lights from fires of the Winde Village. The Orphanage wasn't too far off; it simply stood on the outskirts of the Village—though still within reach.

The great building really was rather large—but more flat and spread out than tall. Carrie grimaced as she remembered that the Church had been—and still was—an enormous financer for the Orphanage. She scowled. She hated the Church and they hated her. It worked out _wonderfully_. Hugging herself, she turned around just as the first few children started filtering out.

Nearby, something rustled against the trees. Whirling towards the source of the noise, Carrie tensed. Her hands clenched into fists; she was poised to defend herself and the children if need be. She could feel the energy coursing through her—racing through her body, pressing into her hands…her palms burned…

"Don't hurt me!" A voice taunted from behind the walls. More giggles and snickers followed suit. Carrie instantly relaxed her muscles; it was nothing but a bloody child from the Village. Lowering her arms, Carrie called out,

"Show yourself!" Stepping out from behind the Orphanage's walls was none other than Brian Clayton; accompanied by assorted boys from the Village. Despite the fact that the danger had passed, Carrie could feel her temper flare up again. _How dare the stupid, arrogant little brat…_

Brian smirked. "What—were you going to hurt me? Kill me, perhaps?" The thirteen-year-old swaggered over to Carrie and the small group of children surrounding her. Brian's friends followed behind him.

Carrie attempted to rein in her temper. "Don't know what you're talking about, Brian," Carrie responded in a would-be casual voice. Brian's smirk widened.

"Yeah, sure. Heard that you've been sacrificing children lately—you know, preparing for the return of your Master," Brian's smirk had disappeared. "We all know you're waiting for _him_. It's thanks to wretches like you that _he's_ breaking the bonds—that's what the Priest says. _And_ my father." He added the last part as if that resolved everything. His friends nodded in agreement.

Carrie's grip on her temper was loosening. She gave him an icy glare. She didn't have to put up with this kind of rubbish.

"Listen kid, I don't give a damn what anyone says. If you're going to be thick enough to listen to those bloody fools, then go ahead. Now if you'll excuse us, we're going off to enjoy some playtime before the weather turn's afoul." Carrie turned to go; the children that were already out hurrying in her wake. The other orphans would find them.

"Figures," she could hear the anger she had struck in Brian's voice, filling her with a savage pleasure. "Those "fools" are right. An unmarried woman of _your_ age who swears, hates and looks like a—like a _freak_ has got to be a, a…_Witch_."

Brian spat out the last part with such contempt, such…_spite_, Carrie lost it. Whipping around, she burst out,

"That's right! I'm a cursed, bloody, goddamned _witch_, and if you don't watch it, I'll hex you too!" With widened eyes, Brian and his friends scampered away towards the Village. Smirking, she turned to the children. Most of them had arrived outside. One of them, Nicholas, peered up at her and asked, "Did you really mean that?"

Grinning, she looked down at them. Even if she said "yes" she doubted they'd fear her. "I don't know," Carrie teased. "Let's find out!" And with that she shot towards him. Laughing, he scrambled out of the way. Joining in the fun, the rest of the children scattered amongst the meadows as Carrie attempted to tag one of them.

* * *

Brian dashed away from the bloody woman. _Crazy_, he thought to himself as he and his friends skidded to a stop in front of the Village. A small group of girls their age were picking wild flowers just at the edge of the meadow. As soon as Brian Clayton and the other boys arrived, they stopped. One of them, the daughter of one of his father's fellow knight's, approached him.

"What happened, Brian?" Samantha asked breathlessly, clutching the flowers against her chest. He smirked sleekly.

"I just gave that Witch a talking-to." The girls all gasped in surprise and awe.

"And you escaped, _alive_?" Samantha inquired. Brian looked indignant.

"Of course, my father's the great knight Samuel Clayton! Don't you think I inherited _any_ of his courage and honour? After all, I was only doing what was right. Unless you think I'm too stupid to know that," he responded dangerously. Samantha's pretty face looked scared of him. It filled Brian with a feeling of perverse power.

"No! I'm—I'm so sorry Brian! I didn't mean to offend you or anything, I swear!" she was practically begging for his forgiveness. Brian smirked; he could make this last…Suddenly a rude voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Sure you did, Brian. I mean, how do we know you're not lying?" A loud girl snapped. Brian and the rest of the pre-teens glared at her. Brian wouldn't be surprised if that girl was a witch as well. One of Brian's friends who had come along burst out,

"He's not—we were with him!" Brian exchanged a smug look with the boy.

"Thanks Joshua, but I can prove it to you ladies (the girls giggled at the term) that I'm not lying. I'll retreat back to the fields, and relay the information back to you guys," Brian felt extremely smug again as they all began asking question's about his military terms. Brian sighed, pretending to be weary, and added, "that means I'll go _back_ to that Witch and come back and _tell_ you what they've been up too." Samantha eyes widened.

"But—but Brian," she stammered, impressed. "That's so dangerous! Who knows what that blue-haired freak could do to you? What if she tries to sacrifice you for her _Master_?" The others nodded quickly in agreement. Brian gave her a charming smile.

"Ah, but there's nothing I wouldn't do to prove my worth to a fair lady," he said gallantly, using a phrase he'd picked up from his father. Samantha blushed profusely as her friends giggled.

"Okay…"she muttered, embarrassed. Grinning, Brian left the way he had came—back to the Orphanage. And the Witch.

* * *

Gathering her off-white skirts, Carrie danced out of Nicholas's way. The children and her had been at this for a while—it was already afternoon. They had now gradually moved quite far from the Orphanage; they were now on the edge of the fields, closer to the forest. She threw back her head and laughed as he tumbled and landed in the grass. Groaning, Nicholas rolled onto his back. He wasn't getting back up. Concerned, she leaned over so she was over his face. She frowned worriedly at him.

"You okay?" she inquired. Nicholas attempted to lift himself up with his arms, and then collapsed with exaggerated theatrics. "I can't…I can't continue…" his whispered, his voice barely audible. Carrie leaned in closer, "You must…carry on…"

"What?" Carrie scoffed. "Get up, boy; you're not dead!"

"But…I am...tell everyone…I love them…" Carrie rolled her eyes.

"Why? It's not like anyone loves you," she teased. Nicholas dropped the act momentarily and pouted.

"Can't you even try to play along? You're ruining everything! C'mon Carrie, you're letting me down!" Carrie bit back a laugh and instead hurled herself lower.

"Okay, oh great Nicholas! What can I do for your dying wishes?" she asked breathlessly. The twelve-year-old rolled his eyes and slapped her arm. "Hey!" she cried out. Nicholas gave a very out-of-role grin and proclaimed loudly,

"I have passed on, now you must continue for me, Carrie!" then propping himself up again he whispered to her, "that means you're It!" before pretending to pass out melodramatically. Opening her mouth in mock injustice, she stood up.

"As you wish, oh Nicholas!" Cackling in pretend evil, she raced forwards. As she rushed to tag the next child, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

She caught a fleeting glimpse of a body hiding in the trees on the Village end of the meadows. _What the…_she stopped and scrutinized the spot where she had seen it. She swore it looked like a child's form.

Walking forwards amidst the playful children, she was intent on discovering the source. It was difficult though—for some reason the sky had darkened considerably. The winds too had picked up; it tugged at her skirt and tossed her odd blue hair into her face.

She failed to notice the tomb-like moans gathering around the edges of the meadow.

"CARRIE!" a shrill voice screamed. "Help me!"

Carrie spun around so fast she nearly lost her balance. Once again she could feel her power coursing through her body, making every part tingle with raw energy. As it spread to her hands, Carrie felt the familiar burning sensation…her fists were clenched into a tight fist…

"I'm coming!" she roared back. Sprinting forwards to the direction of the cry, she stopped dead.

All around them were walking corpses, rotting and bleeding and decomposing with every step they took. Most of the children had run to the center of the field, but a few stragglers remained behind. One of the Corpses had grabbed a hold of Catherine—a six-year-old orphan—and was threatening to bite down on her flesh.

Carrie pushed every ounce of power to the tips of her finger and blasted it away from her. As the magic passed through her hands—when it was at its most intense point—Carrie felt her small finger wound being torn open. It was even worse that it was on her hand; it was making it incredibly difficult to gather and release power.

The bright blue Orb shot past the children and targeted the Corpse holding Catherine. The Orb ripped through the once dead body, tearing an open hole through it. Blood splattered over Catherine from the wound of the demon and drenched the poor young girl. Responding to more cries for help, Carrie powered up and freed the Orbs as they came.

_No, you don't. You're not hurting any of the children._

A sudden shout brought Carrie's attention back to the bush she'd been scrutinizing before. Looking behind her, Carrie saw Brian Clayton in the grasp of one of the Corpses. Though she despised the child, she wasn't going to let her be the one nearby _his_ death. Pointing a finger almost lazily over her shoulder, she took aim. A look of terror crossed the youth's face as he watched the Orb grow on her finger.

With a sudden lurch, he wrenched himself free from the Corpses grasp and raced back to the Village. Carrie ignored the boy; the Orb had aimed—and smashed right through—the Corpses head.

The Orbs circled the meadows, homing in on their targets, blasting through them one at a time. The children's screams accompanied by the deathly moans of the Corpses filled the meadows. But it wasn't enough—the Corpses continued to come.

Finally they ceased their attack. As to why, Carrie couldn't tell.

"Carrie! Nicholas—he can't move!" one of the orphans screamed. Panic flooded through Carrie's veins. Swiveling around, she ran all the way back to where Nicholas was laying.

"All of you—go to the Orphanage! Someone warn Ada and Henry!" She cried out as she ran. To Carrie's horror, she saw, from a distance, Nicholas being hoisted up into the arms of a cloaked figure. Before she could even cry out in alarm, the figure had dashed away with unnatural speed.

_Stupid!_ She cursed herself. _Stupid, stupid…arghhh! Why did I leave? Why hadn't I even checked if he _had _been hurt when he fell? Why? _Carrie continued to berate herself as she dashed over the trail that led into the foreboding woods. These were the woods that led to the shore of Foggy Lake; it was right on the other side.

As she ran, she began to hear anguished cries of help. "Help! Somebody help me!_"_

Nicholas's voice was growing weaker and weaker, though Carrie was almost positive she was getting closer to him. _So how does that work?_ The boy's voice continued to call out the names of the people who took care of him. Ada, Henry, Traian—_Carrie_. There was a particularly loud scream, then—to her horror—silence.

Carrie doubled her efforts, crashing through obstructing tree branches and avoiding slipping on the foliage below. The silence was even worse than the screams. Carrie's mind instantly filled with worst case scenarios. She had to get there in time. _Nicholas!_ _Hold on!_

Without the cries to guide her Carrie was forced to stop for a split second and listen to something else for some sort of guide. There. She could hear the low moans of the Corpses—and the disgusting sound of sucking with it. Her best bet was that the Cloaked One was traveling with other demons. Cursing, she realized time was slipping by. She raced along through the woods, intent on catching up to Nicholas and his Captor. Rushing forth, she halted at a growing noise.

She had reached a small clearing in the cursed woods. The Corpses were gathering around her, attempting to stall her. They appeared to be in quite a pushy mood. The stench was overwhelming; so _many _Corpses, all their rotting flesh pressed against one another. Carrie gagged when she noticed large chunks of decayed flesh shedding from their fragile bodies.

As they attempted to shove their way past each other to get closer to her, they failed to notice that the young woman radiating with a hefty amount of power. A few Corpses shuffled around, and Carrie caught a glimpse between a few of them.

The Cloaked One had Nicholas's limp body in its arms. The pair could just be made out in the distance, slipping by as the Corpses created a hindrance. But before the Cloaked

One delved deeper into the woods, it turned around and its lips twitched into a triumphant smirk. A smirk from bloodless lips and sharp canines.

The panic Carrie had previously felt was gone. Replacing it was white-hot anger that seared through her, pushing her power to its maximum, despite the overwhelming pain in her finger. Utterly enraged, she didn't even pay attention to what she was doing. The only thing she was aware of was that these horrible, repulsive _demons_ were in her way and stopping her from reaching one of her charges. She shot off her Orbs, intent on exacting her revenge on every last Corpse.

As she heard the last one fall, she released her power. She would have had to anyways; her hands were scorching internally from all the Orbs she produced, and her body itself was fatigued from the magic.

She shot forwards, but stopped after only moving forwards a few more feet. Despite her determination to save Nicholas—she knew the truth. It was hopeless. Dropping to her knees, she called herself every foul name she had ever learned. _I have no clue as to where they've gone…I'll never catch up._ They could have gone any where by now—it was easy to lose pursuers in this cursed forest.

Screwing her eyes up tight, she sagged into a sitting position. _Oh, Nicholas, I'm so sorry._ She thought desperately. _Please—_please_ forgive me. _Carrie buried her face in her hands and bit back her tears. _I'm so sorry_. She kept repeating to herself. _I should have been faster, I should've paid more attention the first time, I should have…_there was no hope for finding him now.

This wasn't the first time a child had gone missing since the Bishop's declaration, and Carrie knew that there was no chance of the boy's return. With a sudden jolt, Carrie recalled a mere few minutes ago, back when Nicholas was still with them.

_Nicholas attempted to lift himself up with his arms, and then collapsed with exaggerated theatrics. "I can't…I can't continue…" his whispered, his voice barely audible. Carrie leaned in closer, "You must…carry on…"_

"_What?" Carrie scoffed. "Get up, boy; you're not dead!"_

You're gone now…

"_But…I am...tell everyone…I love them…" Carrie rolled her eyes._

I will, I swear I will…

"_Why? It's not like anyone loves you," she teased. Nicholas dropped the act momentarily and pouted._

A wave of staggering guilt struck her as she realized the cruelty of her words. She cursed herself for ever saying that to him.

"_Can't you even try to play along? You're ruining everything! C'mon Carrie, you're letting me down!"_

I know, Nicholas I tried, I really tried_…_

Blinking back would-be tears, Carrie pulled herself free from the memories. Picking herself up, she numbly made her way threw the dead Corpses and back to the Orphanage; still swimming in a sea of guilt. _I hate them_, she thought savagely as she trampled through the forest. _I'll hunt every last bloody demon. That Prince had better hope he's safe up in his Castle…_

As she passed through the last of the trees, she found herself in the meadows by the Orphanage. _Well_, she thought to herself as she began to cross the fields. _Don't know what to tell Ada and Henry…_Carrie grimaced. She wasn't looking forward to the walk; or perhaps it was the thought of what lay at the end.

* * *

The door to the classy tavern swung, letting light stream through. A rowdy bunch of men swarmed in, causing quite the ruckus. All heads turned to the noisy group, glaring. Once they saw who it was though, they turned right back to their drinks. Sir Samuel and his company of knights—it was nothing new.

Sir Samuel—at the lead—swaggered in. Flinging himself onto a chair, he watched as vivacious young barmaid passed him. Catching his eyes, she gave him an enticing pout and flipped him a wink. Sir Samuel rested his arm on the back of his chair and cocked a jet black eyebrow at the girl. He wouldn't mind coming back around tonight if _she_ was here.

Sprawled out on his chair, he called out for a waiter to see to them. The men around were jesting and roughhousing, drawing quite a bit of attention to themselves. In response to his demand, a harassed looking barmaid by.

"What do you want?" she asked warily. Sir Samuel laughed and rested his head back on the chair, acting as though she had come here purely because she had wanted.

"What we want, my dear?" he repeated. The attention of the rest of the men was now on him, causing Sir Samuel to grin. The barmaid shifted slightly.

"Yes, what do you want?" she said again, dully. Sir Samuel frowned at the girl and lazily tugged her towards him. The poor barmaid was caught by surprise and soon she found herself being restrained in his lap.

"Hey! You can't do that!" she cried. The men Master Clayton was with snickered at her reaction.

"Come now," he scoffed. "That's no way to talk to a man like myself. So why don't you try again?" The girl had struggled momentarily in his lap before giving up. Through gritted teeth, she hissed,

"What can I get you, _sir_?" Her voice was full of forced courtesy. Sir Samuel smirked.

"Well—" No one ever found out what exactly he wanted—his son had come bursting in through the door. Everyone's attention was instantly on the lad. Once Brian had reached his father, the boy doubled up, gasping for air. Sir Samuel looked at his son in concern; the barmaid took advantage of his temporary lapse of attention. Deftly, she slipped out of his slackened grip and scampered off.

Snapping his head up, Sir Samuel barked,

"Bartender! What are you waiting for? My son needs a drink!" The bartender, who had been stupidly wiping a mug with his rag, quickly stopped. Hastily, he put together a drink of mulled wine for the youngster. The bartender did not want to upset Master Clayton. One of the barmaids scooped up the drink and was careful not to spill a drop as she carried it over to Brian.

"Here you are, Brian," she said politely as she curtsied away. She too did not want to get on the knight's bad side; best way to steer clear of _that _was avoiding him in an angry mood. Brian took the drink without out even thanking anyone; he just gulped it down. Master Clayton leaned in close to his son and asked him quietly,

"What ails you, boy?" Brian looked up at his father and said two words,

"Orphan Witch."

The bar exploded in angry outbursts and cries of protest. Sir Samuel held up a single hand and silence fell again.

"What happened, my son?" Brian gave a theatrical sigh and sat himself down on the seat across his father. Taking a deep, over-dramatic breath he said,

"Well, my friends and I were playing over by the meadows—the Orphan ones, you know?—and then that Witch comes out. Naturally we ignored her, but then she started swearing at us and told us to leave or she'd hex us," the bar folk growled at this news, their thoughts all alike. _We _knew_ that Witch was evil…_

Brian continued, exaggerating the truth, "And I was going to stay and fight, but Benjamin Miller was there and I didn't want him to get hurt or see any blood and stuff." George Miller, the six-year-old Benjamin's father, gave Brian an appreciative nod. Feeling particularly self-satisfied, Brian went on, "And so we left, but than we came across Samantha and her friends picking flowers on the fields. We told them what happened and one of the girls got all mouthy and said we were probably lying—"

There was an angry protest at this from the bar, "_Brian Clayton_ telling a lie? Preposterous!"

"—so I told them I'd go back to prove it to them. And it's a good thing I did, otherwise," Brian lowered his voice dramatically, "that _Witch_ would've gotten away with what she did." The whole bar leaned in eagerly. Brian carried on, "the Orphan Witch had tricked the children to come out and play, but _really_, she was just preparing a feast for her minions. They were all playing, and good old Nicholas had gotten wounded as he tried to tag the Witch—I think she tripped him. So then she just laughs real evilly and starts chasing after the kids. I think she noticed me—using magic, obviously—and she stopped for a moment. Then, suddenly! All these living-dead zombie corpse thingies come out of nowhere and started attacking the Orphans!"

The whole bar gasped in shock. Brian's voice grew somber as he finished up, "and that's not the worst part. I saw her use _real_ magic; she brought these funny balls of light things out from her hands, and helped the Corpses. She even tried to slay me—I saw her take aim as one of the Corpses held me. And the last thing I saw before I ran back to warn everyone was Nicholas being dragged away by a bunch of them—the Corpses were probably saving a meal for their Mistress."

The entire bar was silent a moment before erupting again. This time Master Clayton only had to stand up to regain silence. His dominating presence was felt by everyone in the bar, along with his fury at the thought of the Witch attacking _his_ son. No one dared interrupt the great Knight. Sir Samuel raised a foot and placed it on a stool in front of him, then leaned over. He rested an arm on his raised knee as he spoke.

"Men," he began, his deep voice loud and clear, "we cannot allow such atrocious behavior to befall our humble village. If the Witch has begun to slaughter the Orphans—as we all knew she one day would—than we must take steps to ensure our own children, and ourselves, are safe from this wicked Servant of Satan." Muttering began again, but Master Clayton wasn't finished.

"To do this,"—his voice a little louder, to get over the noise—"we shall await the arrival of this Witch at the Orphanage. If the fields were attacked, than no doubt Sir Henry Oldrey, his good wife Ada and the other Orphans shall have gone back to their Orphanage. We will forget them—for they have done no crime, but merely fallen under a Witch's spell of deceit—but once we encounter the Orphan Witch, a trial will be held."

"A trial!" a voice cried out, "but what if she uses her magic to deceive us all? I say we go by your son's word—he's a good lad!—and just burn her when she comes, while we can still escape from her powers!" Many roared in agreement. Sir Samuel nodded.

"Very well. Then do the honourable men of this room agree that this Witch is to be persecuted?" There were frantic nods of agreement. "Than we shall declare the charges against her as soon as she arrives, and let us pray that she will repent to our Lord. Perhaps than she will be accepted into Heaven, but that is doubtful. Either way, she must be burned alive—for fire is the only way to cleanse a soul so sinful, and make it pure again."

The bar cheered in response, obviously pleased with the plan. And as they finished their drinks, they began to filter out. Heading back to their homes, they prepared themselves.

Carrie wearily made her way towards the Orphanage, the weight of the guilt like lead on her back. _Ada will know what to do. _Those words became her maxim. _Just get to Ada and she'll take care of everything that went wrong._

Finally, she passed by the stables and she knew she had reached the Orphanage. "Ada! Henry!" she cried out as she banged on the door. They had no doubt locked up with every measure of security they had in light of the recent attacks.

The afternoon sunlight was glaring down on her. She heard hurried footsteps and scrabbling through numerous locks as both of the people she'd requested—and Beth as well—swung open the front door. Henry rushed forward, a look of immense relief on his face.

"Carrie, what…?" Her eyes met his now raised ones. The man looked like he would have hugged her was he not suited up in his full armor. His knight's chain mail and metal plates shone in the sunlight. Henry stepped closer and gripped her shoulder in his hands.

"Nicholas…" she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Henry didn't need to hear any more. As he dashed off, the three women at the porch watched him leap up onto his horse and then gallop towards the forest. Carrie sighed. _It's no use, _she thought bitterly.

Carrie slowly worked her way closer to the Orphanage. The young woman was worn out from head to toe. Just as she thought she was going to collapse, she felt strong arms encircle her in a hug.

"Oh thank goodness you're all right! Come Carrie, you need to get some rest. The children told me what you did," Ada crooned softly as she led Carrie inside. Beth was waiting for them at the door, being too sick to step outside herself. The sickly girl said she'd stay behind and wait for Henry to come back before locking up again, as Carrie and Ada passed her. The common room being too far, Carrie was brought to the kitchen. There, she collapsed onto one of the chairs that accompanied the small table.

Carrie found herself drifting off in her exhaustion. Ada got up and was brewing a strong tea for them; the smell and heat was making Carrie sleepy. Leaning back in her chair, she thought back to the Corpses. _It's not just Corpses_, she thought to herself. _It's everything. Skeletons, demons, vampires, beasts…everything from everyone's worst nightmares are coming. _

Vampires…for Carrie had pieced together the clues to who—or what—exactly Nicholas's Captor was.

She supposed she knew it all along, but had been hesitant to believe it. A _vampire_. In light of the recent attacks on children, she now thought them the vilest of creatures to roam the earth; foul demons that were damned to a life of infinity. And the only way for them to survive that eternity was too drain the lifeblood of another being, after having none of its own. The worst part—in Carrie's opinion—was that they didn't merely _kill_ their victims.

No, they cursed their prey as well, forcing them to become a mirror of what they themselves are. A mirror of the Prince of Darkness himself. And now Nicholas was in the hands of one of them. Carrie felt her anger returning; how _dare_ they. Vampires were the _worst_, most _despicable_, most—Carrie scowled at the table as she continued to curse them.

And now that they were only nine days from the so called "apocalypse"-like day, the minions of Castlevania—the Prince of Darkness's castle—were coming in abundance. It probably had to do with the fact that her Village, the Winde Village of the West Guard, was so damn close to the shore of Foggy Lake. It gave the Creatures of the Night easy access to their Village from the Forest of Silence.

_Damn Hunters, they ought to be doing a better job of guarding the borders and killing that Old Bastard up in his castle…_If _she_ was a Hunter, the Prince of Darkness—whoever he was—would be long dead by now.

After all, the Bishop had made the proclamation of the Rebirth three months ago. The old bloke had said something about "sending forth our able and best men to slay thine Prince of Darkness, whose bonds are weakening." Then they'd mentioned the day of Rebirth, when all Hell would break loose. There were exactly nine days left till then, and there wasn't a lot of progress. It was really getting people on edge.

As if her thoughts had been caught by the Village, there was a rude knock on the door. Carrie stayed where she was as Ada left to go answer it. Listening hard, Carrie grimaced at their conversation.

"We have come to await the return of the Witch!" a loud voice—Sir Samuel Clayton, Carrie recognized—proclaimed. Carrie's grimace became a full-fledged scowl. She had never liked Sir Samuel Clayton, a wealthy, therefore powerful, knight with a lot of authority in the local Village. Rumor had it he was as powerful as the Priest when it came to decisions for the Village.

The Priest didn't mind—Master Clayton had been a favoured pupil of the Church as a youngster. But just because Sir Samuel was good friends with a Priest _did not_ mean he was a chivalrous fellow. Hell, just because a _Priest_ claimed they were religious didn't make them honourable at all. They both were despicable men who abused their power and authority over those "lower" than them. That included orphans, women, and poor men. How Carrie _despised_ them.

"No Witch lives here," was Ada's cold response. Carrie heard Sir Samuel distinctly cluck his tongue at her.

"If you weren't married to a good man like Henry, I'd think you were a Witch too! No—I think you and the rest of those residing in this Orphanage have been enchanted," said Sir Samuel, his voice full of scorn.

"Excuse me, good sir, but I can assure you we're all perfectly normal, thank you very much," Ada replied indignantly. "Now if you'd be so kind as to leave…" She sounded as if she was attempting to close the door on them. One of the followers shouted out,

"Just move, woman! We're here to _save_ you!"

"I don't need—" Ada didn't get to finish that sentence. There was a sharp crack and Carrie _knew_ Master Clayton's hand had connected with Ada's face.

"Woman!" he roared at her. "There's no doubt you're badly cursed by the Witch! We may have to beat it out of you yet!"

_Why the bloody hell hasn't Henry returned yet?_ Carrie thought to herself as she sprung from the table and ran into the hall. Coming to a halt in front of the strongly built Master Clayton, she treated him to a death glare as she clenched her fists. She hated every last inch of him, from his jet black hair and pale blue eyes to the sleek metal sabatons on his feet.

"Don't you hurt her—you bastard, or I'll…" Carrie's voice was drowned out by Sir Samuel's sudden cry.

"The Witch! Seize her!" Carrie was too tired, too shocked, too _angry_ to react properly. Before she knew it, three of the dozen men grabbed her. Binding her hands behind her back and stuffing a handkerchief into her mouth, they dragged her out. Ada cried out to stop them, reaching out uselessly towards Carrie. It was to no avail though; the men were restraining Ada effectively.

Carrie struggled from her captors, attempting to break free, but their grip was like iron. Quickly they wrapped a strip of cloth around her eyes, blinding her. Tears of fear and frustration threatened to escape her. Perhaps another time Carrie could've used her power to rip free, but after an already long battle…

_Damn you_, she thought bitterly as one of them hauled the struggling girl onto his shoulder.

_Damn every last bloody one of you.

* * *

_

A/N: I know, kind of gory. Could you let me know if it was too much or not? When I was writing I got kind of caught up in the moment…yeah, that happens a lot. Let me know what you think of this chapter!


	3. The Legacy of Darkness

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Okay guys, I know that last chapter was kind of strange for those of you who haven't played Castlevania before. But no worries Zelda fans; we're back to Link's side of the story! I may as well let you know that it's basically going to be about 40-40 percent of Link's POV and Carrie's POV. The extra 20 percent or so will be of various alternative characters. So don't get too used to Link's POV, 'kay? As a warning Castlevania fans should know Reinhardt's age has gone down to about 19 in my fic. It's for the purpose of my story, and it will sort of come into play later on.

BTW: I know the beginning scene is incredibly clichéd if not corny, but…work with me people. Same goes for Lilian. Don't hate me.

**SUMMARY:**

When Link finds himself cursed in the desolate land of Walachia, he learns there is only one way to end it: journeying to the legendary Castlevania itself…

DISCLAIMER: I don't anything from Castlevania world (a.k.a medieval Walachia) or Hyrule/Termina. They belong to the wonderful people at Nintendo and Konami.

PRONOUNCIATION KEY: Reinhardt (RYE-inn-hart)

* * *

_**Chapter Three: The Legacy of Darkness**_

* * *

_Dear everyone:_

_I'm sorry. I'm leaving and I'll probably be gone for a while. My apologies if I scared you by sneaking off like this. I know I leave a lot, but this time I may be gone for longer than usual. Don't worry—the route I'm going to take is one that I know well. It's perfectly safe for me, even with only one arm in use. Don't forget, I'll come back—promise._

_Take care,_

_Link_

After she finished reading the note, Anju placed it back on the table where she'd found it. She was standing in Link's bedroom; prepared to massage his arm with the ointment she'd been given. Anju sighed. _He's grownup now; he can take care of himself. I'm sure he's fine…_Walking over to the window, Anju stopped. She stared out to the blue sky. Just recently, it had cleared up, leaving behind mild dew. Her gaze shifted to the Lost Woods, where she knew Link tended to travel within. Of course, _he_ didn't know she knew…but Anju paid closer attention to the lad than he thought She sighed as she cupped her chin in her hand, all the while leaning her arms against the window sill.

_It seems that he's always ready to help others that he forgets to take the time to help himself,_ she thought fondly.

_Wherever he is…I pray the Four Guardians are watching over him.__

* * *

_

_**DAY ONE (cont.)**_

The mid afternoon sunlight was just filtering through the trees in the Forest of Silence as grey storm clouds drizzled rain over the woods. One could barely call it sunlight though—it was more just a slight improvement on the dark aura of the deathly forest.

Not a sound could be heard but the pattering of rain on leaves; nothing dared to thrive in these forsaken woods, save the beasts of Hell themselves. These were the creatures that threatened to overthrow the good and living of the world. But Walachia had a glimmer of hope—Slayers of the Night had been training for months and all were on their quest to destroy the Prince of Darkness by now. Well, _Hunters_ of the Night in actuality. The Bishop proclaimed that only the men who defeated the Prince of Darkness could be deemed _Slayers_. Pretty soon though, it seemed as though no one would earn such a title—there were only nine days left until Rebirth, and tension was running high as not a single Hunter had been able to take down the enemy.

One of these very men was Reinhardt Schneider—descendant of the noble Belmont Clan of Vampire Hunters. _And damn proud of it_, the young warrior added in his mind. _I am _Reinhardt Schneider_, and when trouble calls, I arrive to defend the people. Such is my duty, as it was of my ancestors…_Reinhardt continued to repeat the old family sayings to himself as he raced through the Forest of Silence towards the terrified screams of a woman. _I wonder if she's pretty…_he found himself thinking idly, as he leapt over a fallen log. Dashing gallantly forwards, he bounded over other fallen debris, and padded along the woodchips. Coming to the graceful halt of a trained-warrior, Reinhardt cracked out the ancient whip of his bloodline.

Before the Hunter stood a blood-thirsty vampire. _Perfect, _Reinhardt thought to himself. _Now's my chance._ The vampire was advancing in on a pretty young maiden, who had her arms wrapped protectively around her head. Deathly pale, and with movement as graceful as a cat, any ordinary person would have run from it by now.

"You there! I hold no fear of you!" Reinhardt called aloud, grasping the air before him. "For in my blood runs that of Lord Leon Belmont himself, and countless other generations of Vampire Killers! And now, you demons of Hell, I shall slay you with this deadly heirloom of my ancestors and—" The vampire suddenly lashed out and attacked Reinhardt. _Damn!_ He cursed as he rolled sideways, dodging the attack, and covering himself in mud thanks to the rain.

"How _dare_ you!" he exclaimed, offended. The vampire didn't seem to care though, he simply lunged again. He moved with such abnormal speed, Reinhardt was having a very difficult time simply defending himself against the vampire's onslaught.

Reinhardt realized that he was as good as dead, as soon as he slipped on his own feet. Out of last resort, he threw his arms up in front of him—just as the demon closed in for a final attack.

"Don't kill me!" He squealed desperately.

Just as the warrior's arm swung up in defense, the whip cracked up as well—and slashed right into the vampire. Any other whip couldn't have done the job that easily—but Reinhardt carried the Vampire Killer, an ancient weapon that had indeed been passed down for generations through his Clan ever since Leon—the first of the Belmont Clan—had gained it.

Reinhardt jumped to his feet and brushed himself off quickly. Regaining his composure, he strutted towards the young maiden. As of the moment, she sat with her legs curled underneath her, right on the forest floor. She wore a white satin dress that flowered out around her. Pink mesh fabric layered overtop of the dress, and continued to flare out from her elbows. She was indeed a fair maiden, and around his age, too. Once he reached her, he held out his hand gallantly. Grasping it gratefully, she pulled herself up. Reinhardt gave her a dashing smile.

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, milady. I am Reinhardt Schneider, Heir of the noble Belmont Clan. How, may I ask, are you faring?" he asked in a seemingly concerned voice. The young lady gave a delicate curtsy and said,

"I fear not well, milord. That attack frightened me so, I—I was just petrified. I'm afraid it made me quite ill worn." And with that she stumbled out of her curtsy and tripped forwards, light dress and dark hair flowing with her movement. With suave, Reinhardt reached out to catch her. The slender maiden collapsed into his arms, but quickly attempted to pull herself out. She batted her thick eyelashes at him.

"My most sincerest of apologies, milord. I'm just so weak, please forgive me," the Maiden said breathlessly. Reinhardt gave a full belly-laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous, fair lady. You've nothing to apologize for but one thing—I believe you've yet to tell me your name." Raising his eyebrows at her, he steadied her back onto her own feet. A slight blush coloured the maiden's cheeks and she clasped her hands in front of her.

"Forgive me," she said again. She was now supporting herself, and they were standing face to face. "My name is Lilian, milord, and I was kidnapped and brought to this most horrid forest. I—I have no clue as where to go, so I'd hope you'd escort me." She looked away from him, her slender neck tilting her head.

"Of course! What kind of man would leave a damsel alone in the forsaken woods?" Reinhardt asked indignantly, striking the air before him. Noticing her alarmed expression, he was quick to add, "Ah. But then not all men are as honourable as myself, you know. Most men aren't to _my_ level. Oh, and did I mention I'm the Heir of the Belmont Clan?"

Lilian pressed her pale pink lips together. She said, somewhat hastily, "I know".

Reinhardt grasped her hand, and prepared to lead her forwards. These forests were wicked—only those who had trained long and hard enough knew their way about them. They made idle conversation here and there, Lilian trusting Reinhardt to lead the way through the woods.

Before long they had made it to the bottom of where Reinhardt knew there was a large hill leading upwards. It was so high, most considered it a cliff—for no one had ever managed to climb to the top of it. And in recent years, no one was stupid enough to dare. Reinhardt mused for a minute over telling Lilian _he_ had, and he alone. It wouldn't hurt; she'd never discover the truth. And even if she did tell others, they'd probably believe her too. He _was_ Reinhardt Schneider, Heir of the Bel—

"Look! What on earth is _that?_" Lilian's voice suddenly cried out.

Annoyed at the interference, he looked in her direction. Reinhardt noticed a forest green hat laying a little ways up the hill. Lilian ran towards it; sweeping downwards she scooped it in her arms. It was the most ridiculous hat he had ever seen, in Reinhardt's opinion.

"Why, it looks like it belongs to a jester," he snorted. Apparently in a very investigative mood, Lilian let out another gasp of surprise.

"Goodness! Over there!" She burst out, pointing towards a limp figure ahead of them, which was lying next to a tree. Reinhardt started. He hadn't even noticed the thing before. _In fact…it looks like it could be…_he prepared to dash forwards, but Lilian beat him to it. Her skirts gathered up in her hands, she raced forwards. As Reinhardt caught up to her, he leaned over to examine it—for it was, indeed, a body.

It was a young man, perhaps around seventeen to eighteen, only a tad younger than Reinhardt himself. He was lying on his side, slowly getting drenched in the light rain. He had shaggy, straw-coloured hair that fell slightly into his eyes. His strong face—handsome, Reinhardt supposed, not that he cared much—was completely neutral. Either the man was fast asleep, unconscious, or perhaps even dead. _No, wait_—leaning in closer, Reinhardt could hear the man's ragged breathing. No doubt it was due to the numerous wounds he bore. He looked as though he'd taken quite the beating. His arm was wrapped in a sling, but the lad's body was crushing it beneath his own weight. Looking up at the ditch, Reinhardt assumed the man had attempted to climb it, slipped, and fallen back down. Sporting simple clothes and a cloak, Reinhardt noticed the weapons the lad carried with him. An empty sheath and quiver, a bow, a shield, and various pouches strapped to his belt.

Glancing at the hat in Lily's hand, Reinhardt also realized that and the man's tunic was the exact same shade of green. _Must be his…_He looked like a fellow traveler—perhaps even a Hunter. Except…for his ears. They were the strangest pair Reinhardt had ever seen; long and pointed, they looked they could belong to an elf from myth. Reinhardt frowned—elves were not regarded as friendly beings. They were wicked and mischievous; for they were the allies of Witches and other Servants of the Devil.

Lilian was peering at the Elf intently, an odd expression on her face. Reinhardt, however, glared at the body. Standing up, he said,

"Come; let us leave this wretched being to the wrath of the Forest!" Lilian's head whirled around at him.

"But…we can't just _leave_ the poor lad here! What if something happens to him?" she implored.

"I admire your kindness, milady Lilian. But do not waste it on such vermin. Look at his ears—he is no doubt a Servant of the Devil. It is best we leave him to whatever fate has in store. Such is the will of God," he declared, crossing his arms over his chest resolutely. Lilian opened her mouth, but cut herself off short. Reinhardt too stopped, and glanced at the body. The Elf was stirring.

* * *

He could hear voices. Garbled, maybe, but voices nonetheless. _Does this mean I'm alive? _Link wondered faintly. Then he heard the first clearly audible phrase.

"…best we leave him to whatever fate has in store. Such is the will of God." Link didn't know who was talking, and he couldn't be sure who exactly the man was talking to, but he didn't care much. _Fine then, they can abandon me. At least they woke me up._ He was grateful for that much. Cracking open his eyelids, he instantly took back his last thought.

He was in pain.

Pure, excruciating, _searing_ pain.

The sunlight—though dim—seemed to burn into his eyes. It glared furiously at him, and made his whole head ache. Rain whipped down at him, soaking his bare flesh and clothes. The light wind chilled his bones, and he shivered convulsively. Link's head sagged with heaviness, making his shoulder and back cry out in protest. As his body regained feeling, he became all too aware of the horrible throbbing pain in his right arm. With a groan, he toppled over so that he lay on his back. The wounds in his back from tumbling downhill with a shield now set on fire. A chain reaction ripped through his entire body, flaring up all his other injuries.

It hurt to move. It hurt to see. By the Goddesses, it hurt to _breathe._ Link was pretty sure he had snapped some ribs, for it felt his chest was crushed; his lungs were refusing to fill up with air. _Stop it_, he commanded his body. _Just stop it. _Link screwed his eyes up tight, and felt his muscles tense excruciatingly in response.

Suddenly, he felt a cool hand over his eyes as it blocked the sunlight. It gently stroked his wet bangs out of his eyes. Another hand tenderly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and slowly eased him up. Pushing himself, Link was able to reach a wavering, sitting position, relieving his back. He let out a breath he couldn't remember holding in.

"Hey, come now. Can you hear me?" a gentle voice asked. He attempted to speak, but his tongue felt heavy and laden in his throat. There was the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. The voice—a woman's voice—hushed him quickly. His body was aching all over. But there was a distinct calmness; a self-assured air that soothed Link. He suspected it was from whoever held him—her grip was firm but gentle. The woman's slender hand was still over his eyes. All around, everything was silent as Link took a moment to gather his thoughts. The rain itself seemed more soothing. Suddenly, a sharp voice interrupted the calm serenity of the moment.

"Lilian, will you stop it? We ought to be heading back to the docks soon—forget the Elf," the man barked loudly. The woman, who was supporting Link, must have noticed him wince at the noise.

"Shh! Can't you see he's hurt? Lord Schneider, I thought you said you were an honourable man. If you _were_, milord, you would help me!" Lilian whispered sharply. Link was grateful, but he could tell he was obviously a burden. Pushing Lilian's cool hand away, he groped about for something to stable himself with. Finding the tree he'd first collapsed near, he gripped it and hauled himself to his feet. Lilian attempted to restrain Link, but to no avail; she dropped her hands uselessly to her sides as Link persisted to get up.

As soon as Link was standing, he chanced opening his eyes. He placed a hand on his chest. No, he hadn't broken any ribs—but they were just badly bruised. He found that after a while it was rather bearable. There was barely any light anyways, seeing as to how they were in a deep forest. He let out a shudder; the icy wind was blowing against his drenched skin. _What in Din's name happened…?_

Link felt an unfamiliar breeze sweep past his neck. _My hat…_Finding his voice, he asked throatily as another thought occurred to him,

"Where—where's my horse?" His vision had slowly ceased swimming before his eyes. A sharp voice answered him.

"What nonsense! There is no horse," it snapped at him. Link didn't register the crude response.

"_No_, you don't understand. Where's my horse? Where's Epona?" Link demanded. _Epona can't be gone. She wouldn't just _abandon_ me. _At that thought, he fumbled around in his pouches for his old flute that was sure to call her back.

"I told you—_there is no horse_. It was only you here, boy." Link stopped searching as he felt anger seeping in. He lost his courageous and most trusted steed, and now this man was treating him as though he was a whining child. Glaring up, Link took in the two people before him.

"Look—" Link had been about to describe his steed when the man cut in harshly,

"You fool! There are no horses in these woods!" The loud sound split through Link's eardrums, and he doubled over. Link's grip on the tree tightened as he leaned over and rested his cheek against the bark, eyes to the pair before him.

The rude young man—_Reinhardt_, Link remembered—was standing. He was a bulky man, and had a face with a look of deep distaste written all over. He wore dark brown breeches held up with a leather belt. On his torso he wore heavy armor that spiked out at the shoulders. Around his neck, he bore a red scarf—Link couldn't help but notice how it clashed horribly with Reinhardt's bright orange hair. With metal gauntlets and sabatons—knight's pointed shoes, designed for kicking—he looked like a warrior. To top it off, a long dagger was attached to his belt; and from his hand he brandished an extensive, dangerous-looking whip.

"Milord! I really don't think you should be so cruel to the man! He is obviously suffering from major wounds, for all we know, he could have memory loss!" Lilian whispered. Turning to Link, she added much more gently, "Is this your hat?" In her outstretched hand was his forest green—and slightly damp—Kokiri cap.

"Thank you," he whispered appreciatively as he tugged it from her hands. Stuffing it on, he felt its familiar point sweeping past his neck. Link turned his attention to the woman, Lilian.

The young man felt his breath catch in his throat. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail that hung to the middle of her back, a simple red flower embedded in its knot. She had large eyes the exact shade of calm waters, and thick eyelashes framed them. Her skin was porcelain pale and her lips were a soft pink. While she was beautiful—_as beautiful as Princess Zelda_, Link found himself thinking—there was something that marked her beauty so different from the Princess of Hyrule's.

Standing up, Lilian stepped towards Link. She put an arm on his shoulder, and gave him a long measuring look that made Link quite uncomfortable. Quite suddenly, she asked,

"Are you going to be all right?" Link didn't like the tone of her voice. It was that same, breathless voice that Romani had used on him in the shed. Link tensed at the memory, feeling a slow flush creep over him. He didn't much want another encounter like _that_ again.

Staggering to his own two feet, Link attempted to take a few steps forward, and away from Lilian. _I can do this…_he kept repeating to himself. He would find Epona on his own, and leave with his stallion. The young woman followed him, grasping his arm in her hands.

"Wait! You can't just go! You—you haven't even told us your name! My name is Lilian by the way—but you can just call me Lily," she added coyly. Hearing Reinhardt's distinct cluck of disapproval, Link hesitated before answering,

"Link. My name is Link," and then continued forwards. Lilian tightened her grip on his arm.

"Ooh! What a strange name! But you know, that sounds like such a _strong_ name. I'll bet you're a _brave_ man too—you _must_ have attempted to climb up that _massive_ hill back there. That's the reason why you're hurt, right? Link—" Lilian's words were cut short. Link had been feeling increasingly awkward throughout the whole time she was talking. He hated the way she stressed each virtue; it made him out to be some sort of…hero…_the faster I find my horse, the faster I can leave. _In a voice more brisk than he intended, Link answered,

"First off, climbing a hill that large would not be courageous—it would be nothing short of sheer stupidity and recklessness. And I assure you, I didn't—" This time Link was interrupted by Lilian's croon. _I hope I haven't hurt her feelings…_

"Oh, so _modest_! You're quite the man, Link. I'd be _oh_ so happy if you came with me and—" _Apparently not. _This time Reinhardt had interrupted her. His voice was aggressive.

"Wait just a second! You want this good for nothing _Elf_-man to accompany you? I thought you asked _me, _the Heir of the Great Belmont Clan—" Lily cut Reinhardt short with a sharp glance. Her voice was distinctly colder than the breathless tone she'd used on Link.

"I was _going_ to say that he could come with _both_ of us. I was going to suggest that, since he was hurt, I doubt he'll have much chance for making it on his own." Link groaned inwardly. Whatever had happened to him, he had never meant to instigate an argument. Shaking his dark blond bangs out of his eyes, he made up his mind. Gently easing his arm free from Lilian, he turned to speak to her.

It was at this moment Link realized the difference between the Princess of Hyrule and the maiden before him. While the Princess was regal and elegant, this woman was exotic and…_alluring?_ Link thought. _Yes_. That was exactly it. Nothing in her beauty was innocent or modest—from her extremely low cut neckline to her suggestive manner of speech. Link turned away quickly; noticing the immodest neckline had caused him to go slightly pink with embarrassment. Without turning around, he said,

"It's all right by me; I can take care of myself. But please, could you tell me where I am? And…and perhaps where the best place to go from here would be?" He heard the pout in Lily's voice as she responded finally,

"All _right_. You're in the Forest of Silence, and you'll most likely want to head to the docks. Just keep heading Northwest…you'll find help there. There'll be a large Inn. Be careful though…these woods are teeming with fiends."

Reinhardt had said nothing throughout her directions, and from what Link could tell, he had turned his back on the two and ignored them. With the exception of the last sentence, that was. He actually threw in a hopeful, "But you don't need to be _too_ careful of the demons," afterwards. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Link ignored the man.

Link grimaced. _Teeming with fiends, huh?_ If that was the case, he needed to find his Gilded Sword. Link reached over his shoulder with his good arm to check his quiver for arrows. His fingers met thin air. Link also noticed for the first time that his rucksack was missing as well. _Damn, must've lost them on the way down._ Stumbling towards the hill, Link studied the ground for his Sword. _Why by the Mask did I have to fall? Why now?_

As his gaze rose, Link found himself wincing. When he had been on Epona and looking down, it had seemed a terrifyingly long fall _down_ a rough ditch. Now that he was at the bottom, it looked like a terrifyingly steep climb _up_ a rough hill. _I fell _all_ that way…? _The bruises ached at the memory, leaving Link in no doubt that he had.

Squinting his eyes through the rain, a glare in the hill caught his eye. Rushing forth, he saw it was indeed from something reflecting the light. Before he had even fully reached it, Link knew it was his Gilded Sword.

"Thank the Giants," he whispered as he lifted the Sword from the wet earth. It was a good thing he had managed to toss it down far enough. As he sheathed his Sword, he remembered to check his belt. Yes, all his weapons and accessories were there.

Walking a little closer to where he had fallen, he was able to find his bag. Slightly damp, perhaps, but in good order. Carefully crouching down, he flipped open the sturdy tan rucksack, and he pulled out a bottle of Chateau Romani. Rapidly he gulped it down—he was slightly nauseous from his fall still, but he could pay the price. While the milk didn't have the restoring powers to heal the fractured bone in his arm, it could handle bruises and scrapes. Link recalled the countless times it had reenergized him during the Battle of Masks. Instantly he felt the healing powers flooding his veins, and restoring his wounds. Standing up on now-strengthened legs, he prepared to leave. _So I'm not in perfect shape…I cam manage. _Link grimaced, thinking back to past memories where he'd been in similar situations.

As he headed back to where Lilian and Reinhardt had been, he stopped. They had departed, and probably had gone Northwest, just as they had told him to go. He sighed. _I don't really have a choice_—_but Hyrule…the Sages…the _Princess_…they're waiting…_He had come from the top of the enormous hill, and there was no way he could climb it. He had no idea what this Forest of Silence was—other than a forest—and he had no clue as to how to get back to Termina, Hyrule or any other neighboring kingdom. He had lost his horse, and was assuming she too was in here somewhere.

Hoisting his bag and re-adjusting his weaponry, Link headed Northwest without looking back.

* * *

Out of instinct—and the need for company—Link pulled out his Ocarina as he walked. He had long since come to the conclusion that he despised this forest.

"Epona…where are you?" he wondered aloud.

Link's thoughts wandered to where his loyal companion could be. _For the love of Nayru, I hope she's safe. _Link missed her dearly; she was closest friend. She'd aided him in all his quests, and he couldn't bear being in this strange place without her. In this forest, anything could've happened to her…_Curses! Why?_ Over and over he repeated the question in his head, but never once receiving an answer.

And now his horse could be suffering thanks to Link's terrible luck.

In the beginning, Link had played his steed's ballad endlessly with the Ocarina of Time. But by now, he'd lost hope. If Epona was nearby, she'd have returned faithfully by now, as she had many times before. Guiltily, Link admitted that he hadn't just lost hope. He'd lost his nerve as well.

His notes rang loud and clear through the dense stillness of the tomblike forest. When he played, Link couldn't help but feel uneasy. Having his instrument to his lips left him feeling vulnerable—he hastily stored it away in order to keep his only good hand free. His hands were freezing—particularly the tips, where his riding gloves cut short. It wasn't just his hands though.

A sheet of ice had to have formed on Link's skin by _now_—even though he had been moving for an hour or so. And to make matters worse, he didn't even know if he _was_ traveling in a Northwest direction. _Maybe if this Four-cursed Forest actually changed every once in a while..._The rain was pouring and the wind clawed at him.

Link shivered.

Well, he _hoped _it was just the wind.

He was certain he felt more than just gusts of air. The trees, for instance. Or rather…their branches. _Why can't these trees be more like the Lost Woods? _These tree's limbs swatted at him, grabbing and tearing him. He may have been paranoid, but Link was _sure_ there were moments when branches swung out at him; only to drop limply again. But they hung from the trunk afterwards, quivering even when the wind was still—_Goddesses… _Even in _Ganondorf's_ time the trees weren't his enemies. It wasn't justphysical assaults that bothered Link though. There were…other things.

Like…eyes. There were alwayseyes.

Link could feel them as if they watched his every action…his every step…his every breath. He could sense them as they raked his back, biding their time, too cowardly to face him in the open. He was so out of place…he was the only being of life in this forest that thrived on the silence of death. His very breath perturbed the thick ambiance that enveloped the forest, swallowing him whole. Constantly, he was throwing cautious glances over his shoulder.

"For the sake of the Giants, _stop it_," he hissed angrily at himself. Not a sound could be heard in this deathly forest—the name was quite fitting. The Forest of Silence.

Unless, of course, one counted the soft, ominous noises that would appear here and there.

A crunch of leaves when Link was still, a gasping for air when Link was holding his own breath…sizzling sounds now and then (_damn Skeletons_, Link thought miserably.) All of this made Link sure there were demons prowling about, just waiting for him to miss a step. Shadows of creatures passing were _always _around. Another shudder escaped him at this thought, and he fought the urge to bolt forwards. Everything looked the same in this forest—no matter where he turned there were crippled trees, their limbs demented into grotesque shapes.

Link couldn't help but stare at the kind of figures these trees were forced into—like some that had been stretched in vain, forever on the brink of falling; others that had deep grooves in their stale bark, vaguely looking like faces that seemed to scream in immense agony…_almost as though they've been tortured_…some trees sagged despairingly, as if their very life force had been sucked dry from them. Many lay dead on the ground, with crisp leaves and stale dirt as their feeble blanket. Blanket it may be, but Link still despised them—they brought no comfort. For whenever he placed a foot to the forest floor, the leaves would crackle under him. A disturbance not at all appreciated by the residents.

_Crunch._

Link swore a shadow had just passed overhead, or beside him, or…Link could never be sure where these shadows were coming from. And to his dread, their appearances only seemed to grow in frequency as he continued closer to the docks. As did the sinister sounds.

"Din…these better be the only things that are hiding on the ground," Link muttered, after he carefully stepped over a fallen log, more leaves crunching as he did so.Link's prayer was ignored though—a number of times he crossed paths with discarded carcasses, their faces contorted into expressions of utmost pain. They were dismembered; eaten out, decapitated…some were even stuck on pikes planted in the ground. Ling turned away. _Everything…it's too familiar…_hard as he tried, he couldn't stop the word from escaping his lips.

"Ganon…" It was too much like his reign…too much like the Hyrule Link had awoken to…Cursing, Link nearly lost his footing on a particularly slippery bunch of leaves.

But no matter how many leaves were on the ground, an infinite number remained on the old residents. Their branches stretched high, and blocked out the majority of the sunlight; yet still allowed the rain to come cascading down through the gaps. Though he tried to avoid these gaps in the forest's canopy, Link could hear it.

_Slip, slap, slip, slap_.

Droplets whipped against the trees, beating them with a ferocity then seemed unnatural.

_Slip._

A large leaf bent to the pressure, allowing the rain to overcome it.

_Slap_.

The released stream founds its way to the young man, striking him directly on the neck and running down his spine.

"Don't!—" Link stopped and swiveled around, Sword in hand. His outcry had disturbed the ancient forest, and he swore he could hear the residents growling at him. Hissing at him. Leering at him. His heart was in his throat and his breath rattled in his chest.

"Farore…pull it together Link. It's just a rainfall. Nothing special," he said aloud, determined to chase the silence away.

Goosebumps erupted on his skin and fresh shivers overtook him. _I'm just cold…_he thought, rolling his shoulders. Still; Link threw a dirty look to the forest pressing around him. He didn't re-sheathe his Sword before continuing onwards.

He hated everything in this land; from the forest to the fiends to the bloody Skeletons…it was thanks to the last that he had received the thrashing he had. His wounds pounded at the memory.

_And why I'm stuck in this goddess-forsaken forest in this goddess-forsaken unknown land…_Link found complaining a bitter way to pass the time.

_Ganonondorf…_once again his thoughts strayed to the dark days of Hyrule's future. He wanted to get back to Hyrule desperately, and he most definitely didn't want to offend Princess Zelda and the Sages. Though he doubted the Princess would be upset with him—she always was a patient one.

_Why? Why did this have to happen on _this _journey?_ He seethed. How exactly was he supposed to return to his land?

"Damn…" Link swore under his breath. This definitely wasn't his day. Unfortunately, at the thought of Ganonondorf, his mind strayed back to Epona. _By the Three Goddesses, I pray she's okay._ Who knew what could've happened to her in this forest?

Link cut that train of thought off quickly. Pessimism was the last thing he needed in this miserable forest. The forest seemed to think otherwise; somewhere from the depths of the woods Link heard it.

Groaning. Snarling. Leaves crunching.

Link stopped on the spot and slowly rotated his Sword flat-side up. _Come out…I'm sick of being stalked…_

The noises stopped.

It happened so abruptly, Link wasn't sure if they had been there to begin with.

Lowering his Sword, Link cautiously took a step. No noises. Another step. Nothing had attacked yet. He had only been walking for a few moments when he heard—no, _felt_ something this time.

It was there. It was coming.

Throwing caution to the winds, Link slammed his Sword in its scabbard and shot forwards. Everything about this cursed forest was wrong. _Cowards…why can they not just face me out in the open?_ But no—his enemies preferred to stay hidden in the shadows, playing on his fears and paranoia.

Almost as though the woods could hear his very thoughts, Link caught the sound of children's screams.

Though startled momentarily, instinct quickly kicked in, and he shot off at top speed towards the direction of the cries. Brittle leaves and twigs snapped beneath him; but Link was past caring. It wasn't very far off; in the distance he could see a shabby cabin surrounded by four people. The people were smashing against the walls of the run-down shack. As he approached, he slowed down to a jog. He could make out the noises of the people, and they were indeed that.

_Noises_. Not words, not sentences, but incoherent sounds that made no sense. Link got the gist of their emotions though—they were angry. Very angry.

Their fists and bodies slammed against the hut's walls, attempting to break it down. Link couldn't see their faces, but he didn't care much. All he knew was that there were frightened children screaming inside of the tiny, feeble cabin, and these people were trying to hurt them. Maybe he was making the wrong assumption, but his gut instinct told him otherwise.

Link readied his Sword in his hand. Looking up through the pouring rain, he saw the face of one of the children through a crack in the wall. It was a young girl, no older than six. He abandoned his bag on the forest floor. Once he found his center balance, he charged forward.

The demons—for Link had caught a glimpse of their pasty, pale skin—didn't sense his attack. They moved with accuracy and speed—though they looked like any other human would. Link was thankful they _were_ demons—no matter how many fiends he had slain, he never enjoyed killing fellow humans

Link thrust his Sword into the first one, and followed through with a reverse-cut to the left. He sliced through another one of them, and he heard its human-like voice groan as it slumped to the ground, right next to its companion. To Link's slight shock he watched as the human-bodies burst into blue flames as they died, despite the heavy rain around them. He was quickly brought out of his lapse of attention though, as another one grabbed him from behind by surprise.

_Argh! Whatever these things are, they can move _fast

Link felt it wrap its arms around his neck, and drag him closer to itself. Link deftly rotated the hilt within his palm, and drove the downwards blade past his midriff, into the creature. Another one had just leapt near him though, and had grabbed a hold of Link's fractured arm. It didn't matter to Link; he was too caught up in the battle to care.

_Pain can be dealt with after the fight is over._

With a sudden lurch, Link used his weight to topple himself forwards. The man-demon's grip loosened significantly as it fell with him. Unfortunately though, they had collided with the already abused shack. The whole wall collapsed against their weight. He felt a broken piece cut into his shoulder, giving him a large splinter. Link prayed the children inside the shed were all right. Wrenching himself free, he noticed the young girl was shifting under the pile of lumber. A demon appeared from almost no where, near the moving pile of wood.

_Goddesses, how _do_ they move with such bloody speed? _

It was with unnatural agility. Link didn't have time to let his mind wander though; the young girl was his main concern. Lunging forwards, Link tackled the demon and pinned him down with his knees. Just as he raised his Sword, Link caught the desperate expression the man-demon wore.

It was pathetic.

Though it had the features of a human, it was anything but. Hunger and desperation were the prominent expressions one could make out through its permanent scowl. As he drove the Sword into it, Link rolled off, so as not to be caught in the flames. Sure enough, the body caught ablaze, and the same strange blue fire engulfed the body. Staggering to his feet, he did a survey with his eyes over the landscape to ensure that no more of those _things_ would attack.

No. They were all dead, and no more could be seen. Sheathing his Gilded Sword over his back, he approached the young girl. She looked as though she was crying.

"My—my friend," she stuttered between sobs. "I think—I think he's—he's dead!" With that she flung herself to the ground amidst the wreckage of the broken shack. _This is the second one I've broken…_Link thought as he looked around. For such a small, run-down old cabin, it could sure make a mess. Link reached the girl and kneeled down beside her. Link rested a hand on her shoulder and asked her gently,

"Where is he?" One hand covering her face, she motioned towards a large pile of rubble. Getting up, he kicked his way through to it. After Link cleared away the pieces of timber, he saw a young boy, about the age of the girl, lying there. Crouching down again with his elbow resting on his thigh, he listened hard. Yes, there it was. The lad was breathing all right. Grinning with relief for the first time that day, Link looked over his shoulder back at the young girl.

"It's all right!" he called to her. "He's okay!" Gasping, the girl jumped up and raced towards him. She dropped to her knees beside her friend and exclaimed,

"Oh my goodness—you're right!" And with that she started sobbing all over again. This time though, Link was sure they were tears of joy. He smiled lightly at the young girl.

"Can you help me get your friend out of here?" The girl nodded quickly in response. Together—Link using only one arm—they lifted the small boy out of the rubble, and onto the surrounding soft, wet earth nearby. Link raised his eyebrows at the girl.

"Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything?" The girl looked up and said innocently,

"Well, I'm kinda hungry." Link nodded and got up, prepared to retrieve his traveling bag. The girl then suddenly jumped up and threw herself in a hug that wrapped around his legs.

"Can I come with you?" she pleaded, peering up at him. _Why not? It's not that far off, and the poor girl's probably scared stiff._ Leaning over, Link hoisted her up, ready to carry her back with him. The girl chuckled softly and snuggled herself against his cool but moist neck. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders in a hug.

"Mmm…you know what I'd _really _like to eat?" she said softly. Still staring ahead with the little girl resting on his good arm, he asked,

"What—" Link didn't finish.

A sudden, piercing sensation ripped through the left side of his neck. Link gasped and nearly dropped the girl before realizing—_she's biting me!_ This time he really did attempt to release the girl. Her fingers dug into his shoulders—she was latched on to him like a leech. Worse yet, Link could feel hot blood being drawn. It dribbled down his neck, and soaked his shoulder. They fell backwards, and the six-year old landed on top. Link struggled to free himself from her hold on him, but she was draining his blood much too quickly. He could feel his energy going as she drank.

_Goddesses, what's _wrong_ with this child? _The only creatures that ever attempted to bite him before were Re-Deads.

The world was beginning to spin around him. Link couldn't have reached his blade now even if he had been able too. His tensed muscles began to relax as he faded away into unconsciousness. Before giving in, the last thing he felt was her tearing her fangs out of him and scampering away into the forest.

* * *

_**DAY ONE: NIGHT**_

There was heat nearby. Link could feel it as it radiated against the left side of his face. He felt groggy and drained, and his wounded arm was sore. As he attempted to open his eyes, Link felt the presence of someone nearby. He could also smell something being cooked; as to what, Link couldn't tell. But he didn't sense any danger—no, for the second time that day, he had awoken to find someone tending to him. _Dammit—why are They all against me lately?_ Recently it seemed he was always getting hurt badly enough to need another's attention. It was incredibly frustrating—the Hero of Time, the Champion of the Giants, felt like he was slipping up more often then usual.

On the side farthest away from the fire, Link felt the cool night air sweep over him. _So it finally stopped raining…_Gazing up at the sky, he realized that not a star was out. In fact, it was pitch black except for the shrouded moon that cast scattered, white rays of light down into the forest. _How long was I out?_

Rolling on to his left side—the good side—Link propped himself up on his elbow. Looking down, he realized his fractured arm had been rewrapped with fresh bandages, along with his shoulder. His bag was now lying beside him, open. _So that's where the supplies came from…_Though he found himself wondering where the dry lumber for a fire could've been found.

Thankfully, he wasn't in as much pain as he was the first time he'd woken up in the Forest of Silence. _For Din's sake, _that_ was hell_, Link thought bitterly at the memory. But he did feel significantly wearier; every part of his body cried out in protest at his waking-up. In fact the only pain that he felt was the terrible ache in the left side of his neck.

_That's where she bit me…_Link couldn't help but notice that the pulse was rather weak. But then it wasn't just his neck either. His entire _body_ felt weak. He ignored the dull sleepiness that was seeping over him; he had more important things to worry about. For instance, finding out who was taking care of him. Looking up, Link recognized the young boy who'd been unconscious before. Alarm bells rang through Link. He recalled the last moment he'd encountered an active child. For a minute, Link waited for an attack to come. When nothing happened, Link found himself relaxing. He could trust this boy—it was a gut instinct for a man who spent much of his life traveling. Judging by his looks, Link would say the boy looked about seven.

The lad had midnight-blue hair, the exact same shade of his eyes. The eyes, Link noticed, were seemingly magnified by his pale skin and strange attire. He wore dark gray breeches held up by a beige sash, and above was a ruffled collar shirt, in pure white. This was overlapped by a prime red vest. On top of his outfit, he sported a plum coloured tail coat with a high collar that came up to his ears and long, elegant sleeves that fell past his hands. On his feet he wore simple brown boots. _Such refined clothing for one so young…_The lad looked up from the fire and stared back at Link. Link found it highly unnerving, being scrutinized by a child. Perhaps it was the fact that while the child looked as though he was studying Link, he also managed to attain a far-away look in his eyes. Whatever it was, Link was disturbed by it.

Suddenly the boy's attention snapped back to reality "Are you hungry?" he asked, though he had already pulled out the meat from the fire. Leaning over slightly, he stretched out his hand to offer Link the meat. Glancing at the boy's hand as Link took the food, he noticed a strange birthmark on the child's hand. It was a vaguely triangle-like shape, resting under his knuckle. Link frowned.

"Is that—" the lad cocked his head up at Link and leaned back, bringing his arm with him.

"A birthmark, yes," he said simply. Link frowned at the boy and his mind drifted to the back of his own left hand. Glancing downwards at the thought, Link remembered that he still held food in his left hand.

It had been roasting over top, but Link couldn't tell what sort of animal it was. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. It didn't exactly look like the most delectable thing to eat. Link grimaced; though he was feeling slightly sick, he prepared to bite into it. He needed to use his good arm, so he was forced to sit up entirely. He needed all the strength he could get.

As Link bit into it—it really didn't taste too bad—he noticed the boy himself ate nothing. It wasn't for lack of food, Link was sure, because there were three more _things_ sizzling over the fire the boy had created. The child was just staring into the fire idly again, legs up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Link found himself curious as to how the young boy had managed to hunt something. He didn't appear to carry any weapons—_maybe he used mine? _The silence was growing, so Link attempted small talk. Unfortunately, this was not one of Link's better strengths.

"Thank you, for taking the time to do all this." Link referred to his arm and the fire by gesturing with his stick. The boy didn't say anything; he didn't even seem to notice Link. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

"My name is Link. And you are…?" No response. "This meat—I've never seen it before. How did you capture it?" This time the child gave him an odd look after looking up from the fire. So Link added hastily, "Not that it tastes bad or anything. It's really rather good!" The boy gave a sad sort of smile this time.

"Enjoy it while you can, because soon there'll be only one thing that'll satisfy your appetite," he said softly. Link raised his eyebrows at the boy. _Huh?_

"What do you mean?" He prompted, putting the empty stick down and leaning back on his hand. The boy seemed to stare at the air beside Link.

"I'm Malus, in case you're wondering." Link frowned. He didn't understand why Malus neglected to answer his question.

"What did you mean before?" Link asked again, a little more firmly. Sighing, Malus lowered his eyes to the fire and hunched over. The flame's reflection danced in the boy's midnight-blue eyes. Malus was silent for so long, Link was about to repeat himself when the boy suddenly said,

"You—you were bitten. By a _vampire,_" Malus whispered the last word as though it explained everything. Link however, was still clueless.

"Er—a _what_?" he inquired. Malus lifted his head, flabbergasted.

"You mean you don't know what a _vampire_ is?" He gasped in disbelief. Link shook his head. Malus continued, "Vampires are cursed beings, humans with all the blood drained out of them. So—so in order to survive, they have to drink the blood of other beings, thus making the blood their own." A shadow passed over his eyes as his voice became subdued. "They prowl through the nights—they burn forever in the sun—and stalk their prey with their inhuman speed and sick lust for blood. They're the enemies of the Church; for they're damned to a life of eternity serving the Devil. It's known as the Legacy of Darkness; a legacy left behind by the Prince of Evil himself." Malus ended in a very hushed voice; he regained his distant expression.

Link had a distinct feeling of unease. Shifting into a cross-legged position, he leaned in and inquired, "And so, what does that have to do with me?"

Malus gave him a pitying look. "Don't you _see_? A vampire's curse begins once they've been bitten."

_Once they've been bitten…_Link jumped up from his position. "Wait a moment!" he burst out desperately. "That can't be right! That's—that's ludicrous. What kind of monster turns its victims into something like itself?"A voice in the back of his head whispered, _a vampire would. _He could have assumed Malus was lying to him—pulling his leg, perhaps—but there was something in the boy's voice that rang true. Sub-consciously, he lifted his fingers up to check where he had been bitten.

He felt two tiny holes parallel to each other. _Damn. _Despite the growing dread, mingled with twisting nausea in the pit of his stomach, he managed to ask with outward calm,

"Is—isn't there some sort of cure?" Malus gave him a long, sad look.

_He can't tell me there isn't a cure, _Link thought fiercely as he sat himself back down. _I won't allow myself to be doomed to a life of darkness, being no better than the demons that I've slain…_ Link's frustrated thoughts were interrupted by Malus's sudden, soft voice.

"There is _one_ way, but it's difficult." Link's head snapped towards the boy. _I don't give a damn how hard it is…_Malus continued, in that same, soft voice, "You—if you can slay the one who placed this curse on you, you'll return to human. But—it has to be done _before you bite anyone_. Because as soon as you've cursed someone else, you've sealed your own fate."

Link relaxed slightly at this. Finding his maker would be hard, but he could do it. And it wasn't like he _would_ ever have the disgusting urge to drink anyone else's blood, so he was all right there.

As though Malus could read his mind, he added,

"But bear in mind—you only have three days. At the most, seven, but that's extremely rare." Link blinked twice, not entirely sure if he heard correctly. He leaned in even closer towards Malus.

"_Within_ _three days_? Why" Link asked in disbelief. _Three days? _Three_ goddess-damned days? That's—how—_three _days?_

"Because after that, the vampire inside of you will take over—you don't have a choice as to whether you want to bite anyone," Malus replied gravely. Link's apprehension was becoming a panic by now. Curling his hand into a fist and crushing the dirt between his fingers, he thought back to that evening, when he "rescued" Malus and the girl. How he _wished_ he had paid more attention to what had attacked him. Calming himself slightly, he thought of the facts he knew. He would remain relatively human—he saw that; he would drink the blood of others; the vampire would take over after a mere three days; he would forever prowl the nights, hunting…Link didn't like the bleak prospect of his future.

Fine, he would bloody hunt down the goddess-damned creature that did this to him. And by the pits of the Canyon, he wouldn't rest until he had.

The only problem was…he had no idea where to begin. He voiced this thought to Malus.

"Hmm…well, a lot of vampires hide themselves in Castlevania during the night." The boy said after a silence. Link looked up from the dirt.

"_Castlevania?_" He repeated, once more baffled. Malus gave him a very intense look.

"Yes, Castlevania. That's the name of the evil castle where demons thrive. They say it belonged to the worst ruler in the history of our land, Walachia." Link furrowed his eyebrows and glared at the fire. _Sounds like any other temple I've cleared out…_

"All, right. I'll journey to this _Castlevania_ and slay every last vampire if I must. I _won't _let this over take me.I won't." Link said determinedly. _Majora's Moon will fall before I let _that_ happen._ Turning his attention back to the boy, he demanded, "Where is this Castlevania?"

Malus shrugged absently. "I don't really know—just keep heading Northwest, you'll reach it eventually." Something tugged at the back of Link's memory when Malus said that.

"_All right. You're in the Forest of Silence, and you'll most likely want to head to the docks. Just keep heading Northwest…you'll find help there. There'll be a large Inn, right by the docks."_

_No, _Link thought to himself. _Either Lily or Malus has made a mistake._

"Malus," Link said, cocking his head sideways. "Are you _sure_ that's the right way? I was pretty sure the docks were in that direction." Malus had been dazing off again during the temporary lull in conversation. When he didn't respond, Link repeated himself, a bit louder,

"Malus—are you sure that's right? Because—" Malus whipped his head around at Link.

"Yes, I'm _positive_. If you want to get to the docks, you need to go North_east_. Believe me—why would I lie about something so trivial?" Link shrugged in response. _Lilian must've made a mistake…_then, on a thought that suddenly occurred to him, he asked Malus,

"Where are you heading?" Malus, looking slightly surprised at being pulled out of his day dreaming—_Farore, what's wrong with this boy?_—stalled before answering,

"I was heading to the docks by Foggy Lake, but then I got lost. After I met that little girl—you know the one,"—_how could I not? _Link thought bitterly—"and then we were attacked by those vampires." Link shuddered. He did _not_ want to become one of those. Standing up, Link said,

"Well, I guess we'd better hurry and get you to this Foggy Lake—my three days are ticking." Malus raised his eyebrows at Link.

"Why—why are _you _taking _me_?" He asked, obviously shocked at Link's statement. Link cocked an eyebrow of his own.

"What'd you mean, Malus? You think I'd just abandon you after what you've done for me? I'm actually insulted at your lack of faith in me," Link teased gently. Malus laughed—for the first time, Link noticed—and chucked Link's bag at him. Climbing to his feet, he began walking ahead of Link.

"You know, the only thing you'll be useful for is defense. _I'm_ the one who knows the way." Malus smirked over his shoulder at Link. Link smiled slightly and followed the young boy as they ambled through the dark woods.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from demons," Link responded. He added silently, _but for how long can I protect you from myself?_

…_three days…_

Link scowled at the darkness._ And the gears of the clock are turning…_he thought as his gaze drifted towards the moonlit sky.

* * *

**A/N: **From here on out, I'd like you to pay attention to the time (e.g. Morning of Day One, Night, etc.). It'll come in handy…believe me. Also, Elves and mystical creatures _were _considered evil back then! Well, okay, they were considered as wicked and mischievous, banned by the Church…so I've exaggerated that a bit. Ah well, it's close enough to my research. But like I said…my references will all be posted as my final chapter… 


	4. A Winde's Cry

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**A/N:** Hello once again! Remember—you _really_ should pay attention to the time; otherwise you'll be lost. I'll recap every once in a while for you guys, but paying attention still helps. Oh yeah, this is the last time I'm going to warn you about the extreme OOC-ness of the Castlevania characters (and I realize now…the slight AU of its storyline as well). By now most Castlevania characters will have made their appearances. And if you have problems with some of the issues I bring up, once again I say their not necessarilymy opinions, just the characters.

Oh yeah—please don't give away plot secrets from the game—thank you!

BTW: Yes people, it's still Day One. It kinda has to be. Oh yeah…I forgot that a stallion is a male horse…and I called Epona that a couple times. Heh—whoopsies! I'll try and look out for that in the future.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything from the Castlevania world (a.k.a medieval Walachia) or Hyrule/Termina. They belong to the wonderful people at Nintendo and Konami… oh yeah… I didn't create the Templar; that was made by, uh… the French? (But my version is modified anyways…)

PRONUNCIATION KEY: Traian (TRY-en)

* * *

**_Chapter Four: A Winde's Cry_**

* * *

_**DAY ONE (cont.)**_

The afternoon sun shone dimly down through the trees as an intruder was treading through them. The forest attempted to stall the man, making their branches cling to him and attempted to tear through his knight's armor, leaving nothing but scratches.

Henry Oldrey slashed his way through the forest, cutting off any tree branch that came in his way. _Dammit,_ he swore to himself. _Why the bloody hell did they take Nicholas? _As soon as Carrie had returned he knew something was wrong—otherwise the girl wouldn't have been so somber. Had she returned angry…Henry's glower increased. He wished she had—at least then he'd have known that everything was all right.

_Thank God that she did return home safely though. _

He was heading back towards the Orphanage now, failing to find any trace of Nicholas. The man hated giving up, but sometimes a knight just had to know when to quit.

At the mouth of the forest, where Henry had first come from, he saw the Orphanage. He hastily sheathed his sword. Breaking into a run, he shot forwards, eager to get home and check up on how everyone was faring. _You all had better be okay…_As he reached the Orphanage porch, he stopped.

Something wasn't right.

There were marks of a recent struggle on the steps. And worse yet, there blood was splattered all over the porch. Panicking, Henry threw open the unlocked doors—vowing to lecture whoever left it open—and raced inside to look for the others.

"Ada! Where are you?" he called.

There was a rustling noise in the kitchen. Drawing his sword once more, Henry advanced towards the kitchen. Cautiously, he swung open the double doors. _Whatever the hell you are…if you've hurt anybody at the Orphanage…_

Upon seeing who it was, relief flooded him so heavily that he felt dizzy. His beloved wife Ada was sitting at the table, being tended to by one of the Orphanage workers, Traian. The seventeen-year-old was holding a wet cloth to Ada's cheek. Wet trails of tears streaked down Ada's face. Rushing forwards, he abandoned his weaponry on the kitchen floor.

Upon reaching his wife, he leaned down on one knee. Taking the cold, wet cloth from Traian, Henry placed it against Ada's cheekbone, where there was a rapidly purpling bruise. Traian sat down on a chair by the table, and grimaced at Henry.

"She was hurt by some intruders that burst in. I came down just as they were departing. They—" Ada cut in before Traian could finish.

"Henry! Carrie—they have her!" she cried out desperately. "Sir Samuel and his lot—you know what they're like! Henry, we have to do something!" Her voice was hysterical. Henry frowned. She took after her elder brother, Cornell, and stayed calm during these sorts of things. If Ada was frantic, than Henry knew things were out of control.

Putting the ice down for a moment, Henry wrapped his arms around his wife. His gentle actions rivaled against the furious thoughts boiling in his head. _Bastards…they've no right to call themselves knights…hurting women and children…_

Pushing his arms away, Ada forced herself up.

"Hey!" Henry protested, still kneeling. "You're hurt! You should be resting—"

"Come off it Henry!" Ada cut in, throwing her arms to the sides. "It's a mark on the face—if we don't hurry up Carrie will suffer a lot worse! They think she used her powers to kill Nicholas!" _By the Lord…it's finally happened…_

Henry jumped up at this. "Dammit all!" he roared. "Then they'll…Carrie—they're going to—"

"I know! But we'll only make it worse if we interfere—so how do we save her?" Ada cried urgently. Henry couldn't reply. He was too busy glowering at the wall before him, and filling his head with the most barbaric forms of revenge. _How dare they_…

A hand to her head, Ada paced the kitchen.

"Oh Lord, Henry…" she whispered desperately. "This isn't right—we tried _so hard_ to protect her from such a…fate…I don't understand Henry! How could we have let this happen?"

For the first time since Ada's outburst, Traian spoke up.

"You know," he began softly, staring at the floor. "I reckon we ought to keep our voices down. I don't know how the children will take this…news…well…Beth too—you know how sick she is, so…if they find out that she's been…they're going to…" Traian couldn't finish his sentence.

Ada nodded her head, calming down slightly. "You're right," she agreed. "We don't need to cause any more panic, in light of what just happened. I hope Beth went back to bed after she let Henry in. I don't think the poor dear could handle the shock…"

Henry was pulled out of his angry thoughts at these words.

"She never let me in—someone forgot to lock the door up," Henry growled, remembering the lecture he had prepared for the fool who had done so. Traian jumped out from his seat.

"She might've—she might've gone up earlier or something. You know how sick she was… I could go check," Traian offered. Ada nodded gratefully.

"Thank you Traian," she said. Henry furrowed his brow. Thinking of Beth had brought him out of his savage notions. Cursing himself for wasting time, Henry grabbed his sword off the kitchen floor and began re-equipping himself. _Bloody hell, I'll be damned if Carrie's burned alive while _I'm_ still around…_

* * *

The two o'clock sun was faintly shining down on the base camp. The miserable gray clouds blocked out the majority of light and covered the garrison with shadows. Not at all appreciated by the knights who were supposed to be keeping guard on the Village's border. Demons who could move with stealth found it only too easy to slip past the guard. It wasn't as though the guard wasn't trying though; if anything, they were remaining quite vigilant. Especially in light of the recent attacks. The campsite was a fair size though; the knights on duty managed to take down most of the fiends. Even if it was _after_ they'd entered the site.

Young Master Bogdan had taken part in a number of those fights, though now he had another duty to attend to. He was a quick and nimble lad; a benefit of young age. Being only a squire to the company, he was given trivial tasks when no danger was present. Trivial tasks such as delivery and message.

As Master Bogdan hurried to a solitary tent near the edge of the forest, he found himself shuddering. _Only the Captain would be brave enough to sleep near the cursed forest…_but then, the Captain was much braver than any of the other men in the encampment, in Master Bogdan's opinion. Upon reaching the Captain's tent, he threw open the flaps, and stepped inside.

There he stood; erect and hand saluting, as he waited for Captain Cornell to look up from his work. At the present Sir Cornell was hunched over his desk, scribbling over a piece of parchment that looked something like a map. As the knight's hand flew over the page, his entitled sword rattled gently on the desk.

The sword on its own was a sight to behold—it was called the Templar; and everything, from the pommel to the ricasso, had beautiful designs and scriptures intricately inscribed onto it. Only knights of rank had earned the privilege of wielding such a blade.

Master Bogdan had no doubt in his mind that Sir Cornell had sensed him; the elder knight was simply ignoring his junior until he saw it fit to respond to the intrusion. Captains tended to do those sorts of things, no matter how important the message was. _Like now_, he thought.

As Master Bogdan remained anxiously waiting there—and bursting to say his message—he couldn't help but see the frustration etched into the man's face.

_The man is still one of the most alert knights, even after all these days of attacks…stress must be catching up with him, _Master Bogdan thought sympathetically.

Watching Sir Cornell's hand flying over the parchment, Master Bogdan realized there was a very strange clash with the man—when he spoke there was usually ageless wisdom behind his words yet his physique retained its youthful vitality.

Though only thirty-eight, he had pure white hair that fell to the nape his neck and strands of hair that hung well into his gray eyes. The whiteness, however, was not due to aging. Rather it had been his since birth—though Sir Cornell never exactly said why.

His tanned face too was not elderly, but it held a look a cool serenity and understanding that many could only hope to achieve with the passing of their years. And while the face was normally a compassionate one, Master Bogdan noticed that at the moment it was wearing a very hard expression. Eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a thin line, bothering the man seemed an undesirable prospect.

So Master Bogdan left him alone, and kept his message to himself until Sir Cornell acknowledged him.

Well, almost.

"Sir Cornell?" the young man inquired softly, unable to contain himself. Cornell sighed tiredly and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. The young man, sensing Sir Cornell's permission, walked further into the room. Stopping directly before Sir Cornell's desk, he stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, Antony?" The elder man prompted, cocking an eyebrow at the young squire who had stepped into the room. The lad shifted uneasily. _He isn't going to like this…_

"I—I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but another attack took place just recently," he said. Adjusting himself in his chair, Sir Cornell rested his elbows on the desk in front of him.

The Captain was careful not to drop his arms too quickly though; the teetering stacks of paper were threatening to collapse at any given moment. The piles were, of course, plans, maps and different documents required to fight the damned demons who managed to cross Foggy Lake. Sir Cornell grimaced.

"Was anyone hurt?" he asked brusquely. Antony nodded.

"Yes, there were some injuries," he responded. Sir Cornell's grimace became more pronounced.

"Send word to the infirmary and request that they attend to the matter. And thank you for letting me know, Antony." Lowering his forearms so they lay flat on the desk, he sighed. On a note of dread, Sir Cornell then asked, "Were there any fatalities?" Antony nodded his head solemnly.

"One, sir. A boy named Nicholas," he said. Sir Cornell started _Does he recognize the name…?_

"Er—what exactly happened?"

Master Bogdan hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm not really sure, Sir. But—I know this is going to be hard for you to believe… he was… murdered—at the command… of the Witch this afternoon," he finished quickly, trying to get the worst over with as fast as he could. Captain Cornell stiffened.

So did Antony.

When he had been given the message by Sir George, he hadn't been keen on delivering it to their Captain. Sir Cornell tended to get a tad defensive over the Witch. _Probably under a spell from her,_ Antony thought to himself. _But now_ _he _has_ to see reason. One of the children _died_. He can't keep sticking up for the Fernandez girl…we need men like _him_ to take care of Satan-worshippers like _her_—not fall for their deceptive hexes._ In a hesitant voice, the Captain asked,

"Where did this attack occur?"

_Poor man, he was the one to open it up eighteen-years ago, now that Witch betrays him…_Young Master Bogdan gave Sir Cornell a sad look and said softly,

"The Village Orphanage, sir."

A shadow crossed over Sir Cornell's face. "Well, were Sir Samuel and his company of men there to help defend during the attack?" Antony bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged.

"In all honesty…I've no idea, sir. None at all—I was just told to deliver the message to you, the Captain," the squire responded. Sir Cornell scowled and snatched his Templar from the desk. Leaping from behind it, the man shot towards the door. He was up and out of the room before Master Bogdan even had a chance to wish him good luck.

Blinking in Sir Cornell's wake, Master Bogdan decided to help clear the desk. In the Captain's hasty leave, he had toppled quite a few stacks of paper. The lad began to pick them up, but paused when his eyes caught something unfamiliar.

It was a foreign map that he had never laid eyes on before. Very vague, it looked almost as though it had been drawn recently from sheer memory. Rubbing ink off his fingers, he realized this was what Sir Cornell had been working on moments ago. Master Bogdan was confounded when he read the top note, written in his Captain's own spiky handwriting:

_On this child's eighth birthday, the soul of the true devil will wake from his sleep and play a destructive melody._

And right underneath that:

_NINE DAYS._

* * *

It was still afternoon. And unfortunately, it had finally started to rain. Perhaps it was only spitting, but soon there'd be buckets of it. Regardless, dust continuously flew up as Cornell's feet padded across the ground.

The man ran with the speed and stealth of a wolf—a remainder, Cornell supposed, from a former time. As he raced through the outskirts of the Village, his mind fumed with questions. _Are Ada and Henry okay? Are the children all right? Is—oh God—is _Carrie_ okay? _Panic flooded through him at the last thought. If people believed that Carrie had killed poor Nicholas, then… the results couldn't be good.

Cursing under his breath, he mentally prepared a good, long lecture for the girl once he got a hold of her. _She ought to be more careful…I _told_ her people are on an edge lately…_he thought desperately. If something had happened to her..._Dammit,_ _why didn't she heed my words?_ As he neared the familiar Orphanage, he let out a fresh burst of speed. Racing up the stairs, he felt a horrible lurch as he glanced downwards at the signs of struggle.

_Blood…_his fears for Carrie's safety were increasing. Trying to ignore the horrible feeling of dread, Cornell burst through the door—praying Ada and Henry, alive and well, would be inside.

* * *

Ada heard Traian head up the stairs. Not that she cared much; her thoughts were on the matter at hand. _Carrie…oh Lord, we have to help her!_

"Henry—" she began, turning to her husband. Her eyes widened in shock as she watched her husband suit up. "NO!" she grabbed his arm. "Didn't _anything_ I just say get through to you? We can't just barge in there and demand her release! How do you think they'll take that? You're a _knight_, you have to _obey_ the Church—not fight it! "

Henry glared at her.

"But _you're_ the one who said we have to do something!" He burst out. "So you think we should just stand here and plan, while Carrie could already be tied to the stake?" Henry took a step towards his wife and cupped her face in one hand. Wincing slightly, she felt his finger brush the bruise. "It's not _just_ Carrie—they struck you too! _You_! You've never hurt anyone before, there was no reason—they should never have—_they had no right_!"

"Forget what they did to me! It's Carrie we need to be there for; that's _why_ we have to think things through. She needs us to! Please, Henry, love; keep it together," Ada implored. Henry still looked furious. _Why must he be so _fierce_ all the time? His hate, his love…it always gets him into trouble._

Shifting his hand to around her waist, Henry pulled Ada into a close hug.

"Ada, I'm going," he whispered fervently into his wife's silver-blue hair. "I can't just wait here patiently until a plan comes to us. I just can't. I'll get Carrie back even if I have to—"

As to what Henry was willing to do, Ada never found out. Suddenly they heard footsteps pounding against the hallway carpet. Pulling out of her husband's grasp, she did a double take upon realizing who was intruding into the Orphanage kitchen.

* * *

Knight's boots pounding against the carpet, Cornell skidded to a stop in the kitchen. Looking up, he saw his younger sister and brother-in-law standing there, momentarily stunned. A look of immense relief swept over both their faces. _Oh, thank goodness they're okay._

Dashing forwards, Ada threw her arms around her elder brother.

"Cornell!" She whispered urgently. "Nicholas, Carrie—they're both gone!"

_Damn_. His worst fears were confirmed. Pulling out of the embrace, Cornell studied his sister before him. _Why is she hurt…?_ Cornell grimaced, predicting the answer.

"Ada, what happened?" he asked, in a soft voice. Ada bit her lip.

"They came, and—I told them to get out…but they—they—got me out of the way. Carrie—you know how she is—she came out into the hallway. They dragged her out of the house and tied her up before carrying her away. I tried to stop them… I really did… but they held me back," she finished lamely, eyes dropping to the floor. Cornell's grimace deepened.

"Did they hurt Carrie too?" he demanded, more softly still. Henry spoke up at this point.

"_Hell_ yes!" Henry exclaimed, slamming a fist into the wall. Cornell shifted his attention to the younger man. "They _tied her up_ Cornell—and you know who it was in charge of the group that stormed the place? _Sir Samuel_! What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Wait—Sir_ Samuel_?" Cornell repeated, frowning. "Was he—was he here to help during the attack?" Ada shook her head. Cornell scowled, strong emotions building up inside of him.

It had been a number of years since Cornell had actually felt anger, _hatred_ even towards _Sir_ Samuel. Setting his jaw, he asked in a tight voice,

"So let me get this straight—he skived off his rounds to guard the Orphanage, but he was here to make sure Carrie was persecuted?"

No response. Henry and Ada shifted uneasily as a silence descended upon the room. Cornell's eyes narrowed and his voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"I see."

_If Sir Samuel was in charge of hunting Carrie down…_Cornell knew Sir Samuel well enough to know what the knight was capable of. "So that's why there was blood…" he muttered.

Turning to leave, he stopped when Ada inquired, "Blood? They hurt us Cornell, but they didn't raise a blade—against neither Carrie nor me,"

Henry frowned.

"But then where did it come from?" he demanded. "I saw it too—that and signs of struggle…"

Swift steps down the stairs interrupted their brief conversation. Turning their heads as one, they saw Traian standing at the kitchen door. The young man froze when he saw all of their eyes on him.

"Uhh…Beth, she—she's not upstairs," he said worriedly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Henry started.

"What do you mean Tri? Where else could she—" Ada interrupted Henry's question.

"Henry… Cornell—Beth. The blood. She was so sick…waiting at the door…no one noticed…" she whispered. Both men swore when the conclusion hit them.

_Dammit, now Beth's missing _too? _Oh Lord…_Concentrating his gaze on Henry, he said firmly,

"You go out and track Beth and whatever captured her. I'm going to go help Carrie." Henry didn't argue. Pushing past Cornell and Traian, he left the Orphanage. Cornell shifted his eyes to his sister. "Ada…" he began.

"Go, Cornell. Hurry up—for all the time we've wasted it could already be too late. But, you know Carrie. She—if anything…" she cast her eyes down, the unfinished sentence left hanging in the air.

"Don't worry. I knew well enough to give her the pendant years ago..." Ada locked gazes with him, and smiled slightly.

"Yes…the Blue Crescent Moon has always been there, hasn't it?"

With nothing but a nod, Cornell turned and raced out the door, leaving it swinging behind him. _Oh Carrie…_he prayed._ I hope you haven't done anything to make it worse for yourself…_

* * *

The hard dirt ground met her as she was thrown down carelessly. It was drizzling now though; the soil was sticking to her as she lay there. Her head was pounding from where she'd been struck when she wouldn't co-operate…the binds on her wrists were cutting into her…the bands around her eyes and mouth were so tight she could barely breathe… and on top of all that she was still horribly fatigued from the battle with the Corpses.

All in all, she felt like hell.

Gathered around were the bloody people of Winde Village who had cheered on as she was carried through the whole damned village. _I hate you! _Carrie screamed in her mind, unable to talk because of the gag in her mouth. _I hope you all bloody die! _Fear was coursing through her—she was amazed she hadn't broken down entirely. The villagers had jeered at her, and called her every foul name they knew. And in a village so close to the docks, where Hunters constantly passed through on their way to the Forest of Silence—they knew _a lot_.

Carrie had felt the burning humiliation of it all; though she supposed if she actually _liked_ the villagers it would be a lot of worse. At least she didn't see their faces thanks to being blindfolded. She knew the Church clerics were watching as well. While they didn't jeer and curse her—_no, they're too "religious_", Carrie thought sardonically—she knew they felt just as much pleasure in watching her be condemned.

And so now here she was, lying on the ground, blinded, gagged and bound. Roughly, a hand shot out and pulled her head back by the hair. Her eyes watered in pain as each of her hairs felt as though it was being ripped from her head. A blade was pressed against the throat.

"Should we kill 'er now?" a lout asked. _No!_ She heard the clanking of metal that stopped near her. A disgustingly familiar voice barked out,

"No—not yet, you fool. The Witch should at least be given the chance to repent before she dies." Carrie recognized the powerful voice. _Sir Samuel…the bastard…_the man continued on, "and a Church man like yourself ought to know that you don't slay a Witch by the blade." Carrie felt a horrible gut-wrenching pain inside of her as screams pierced through her head.

"_Witch!"_

"_Burn her!"_

"_Push her back in the fire! She's escaping!"_

"_Pray for mercy from the Lord, you evil wench!"_

Memories of previous burnings she had attended came rushing back. She shuddered internally as screams of women being cast aflame rattled unbearably inside of her. They too had been accused of witchcraft and died at the stake after a trial. Carrie knew—she had been there. Ada, Henry and Cornell had all tried to protect her, shield her from the truth. _It's not like it matter's now…_Not a single one was here.

_The Villagers were so cruel…those women did _nothing_, and now I'm going to die too…_Carrie felt frightened tears forming. _Only difference is…I _am _a Witch…do I deserve it? _Thankfully, no one could see her tears because of the thick cloth that was wrapped around her eyes. A sudden voice brought her out of her bleak thoughts.

"Miss Carrie Fernandez!" Sir Samuel's voice barked. "You hereby stand accused of the following crimes; Devil-worshipping, illness-spreading, devastating crops…" he continued on with a list of absurd crimes Carrie had never even known the Villagers held against her. _What is _wrong_ with these people? I barely even come to the village itself anymore!_ Carrie tuned out the hate-filled accusations.

That was, until the last one.

"…and most recently, the attempted murder of _my_ son, Brian Clayton, and the murder of the orphan boy, Nicholas," Sir Samuel finished, sounding furious. The Villagers—whom Carrie assumed had gathered around for her "trial"—roared in anger. It was nothing, though, compared to the feeling of rage inside of the young woman.

_The _murder_ of _Nicholas_? I would _ne_ver…I did_ not_…the _ba_stards…_Carrie struggled to speak, but it was an impossible feat to accomplish with the gag in her mouth and a band wrapped securely around her mouth. And it didn't just stop her from speaking—it tasted gritty as well. She had no idea whose it was.

Unfortunately, the rag didn't block out that bloody tiny voice in her head. _But you did,_ it whispered accusingly. _You should've been faster…_

…_no…I tried…_

…_but it wasn't enough…_the voice argued.

Carrie silenced it as best she could. She heard Sir Samuel's voice continue.

"Now _Witch_,"—Carrie hated that term, _Witch_, like she didn't have a name or something—"you can clearly hear that the entire Village has unanimously deemed you guilty." The Village roared again in response. Carrie continued to curse them mentally.

"So we must deliver your punishment. But first, we shall permit you a chance to confess. Once you've done so, you will be able to repent for your sins." _What sins? I have _never _hurt _any_ of these people before…_But then, these people had forever hated her. _Still though…as much as they despised me they've never gone _this _far before…_

…but here she was now, about to be burned. And most likely because of the Bishop's proclamation, people were on edge…burning witches and accusing the most innocent of people with helping the Rebirth. Thinking back, she remembered Cornell had warned her over and over again to be _extra_ careful with her powers lately. _Damn…it's not my fault though…the children would've died…_

Carrie again felt a hand grab her head by the hair. A blade was raised again—_oh no, they're going to forget the repent—_but this time Carrie felt it slice through the band around her mouth. The person wasn't too careful though; she felt a gash on her cheek where the band had been cut. As soon as it was off, Carrie spat out the gag. _Nasty…_ Tongue curling at the disgusting taste in her mouth, she swore under her breath as she heard Sir Samuel step closer to her. The roaring had stopped. All was silent as the knight approached the accused.

"Witch," he said in a carrying voice. "Are you willing to repent _right now_?"

_He wants me to confess; to give in._ Carrie supposed the smart thing to have done would have been to simply confess, right then and there. At least she would redeem herself slightly in the eyes of the Winde Villagers, if she repented. She _could_—but she had learned not to care about what these fools thought of her.

She couldn't see Sir Samuel's face, but she knew it was probably contorted in fury. Carrie kept her silence. He leaned in closer.

"You may as well now, you'll have to in the end," he seethed. Carrie scowled as much as she could without her eyes.

"No," she hissed. A sharp blow smacked her face. She toppled over, and landed sideways on the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth and dripping down her face. Struggling to her feet with no hands, she stood erect once more. She felt someone step closer.

"Are you going to confess _now_?" Sir Samuel snarled. Carrie held her tongue. _I don't speak to trash like…you…_

The rain was drizzling down lightly, washing away some of the blood. In response to her silence, Sir Samuel struck her again, this time on the other side of her face. Carrie was starting to feel light-headed—she'd be damned if she let him know though. She strained to get back to her feet. Using her magic had already worn her out, and being beaten wasn't helping. _If I could just _see_ the bastard…he'd be long gone…_

"Just confess, Witch! We'll burn you anyways—it is the only way to cleanse a soul of such heinous crimes!" Carrie was finding it harder not to say anything. But she heard the fury in Sir Samuel's voice, making it all worthwhile. Sir Samuel didn't seem to think so.

This time he backhanded her. Carrie doubled over but refused to collapse, stars blinking in the darkness that covered her eyes. Her head was throbbing like hell. Her pride wouldn't let her cry out though, or say anything for that matter.

The villagers had gotten restless again and they began fouling names at her.

"Forget the repent!" a woman's voice cried. "Just get on with on the burning!"

"Burn the ungrateful wench!" voices agreed. Anger surged within Carrie. She felt rough hands grab her by the arms and drag her upright. Shoving her along, she tripped when she reached a large pile. While on her knees, it dawned on her; _lumber…dammit all…I'm going to die…_Carrie's anger was the only thing holding back her tears of fear. _Cornell…Ada…Henry…where are you?_ It was a burning. No trial, just on with the burning. And they weren't there to protect her this time.

_It's not fair… I didn't ask for this…_

She felt the same hands push her towards the center of the pile. As she stumbled over the log lying in the way, Sir Samuel began speaking again.

"Well, _Witch_, we always knew this day would come," he gloated. The crowd, which had gathered in what sounded like the front of the stake, agreed. Loudly. "I mean, ever since you arrived at the Orphanage…we knew you were evil. A _Satan-worshipper_, a _freak_… you've been befouling our village since the day you were born. But then—I suppose it's not _entirely_ you're fault," he added. "It must be in your blood—your mother was a filthy whore of a witch."

Carrie was too angry to form words. _Ugh, don't you _dare_ insult my mother…_she could just _hear_ the smirk in Sir Samuel's voice. He was closer to her now—she could sense it.

They had come to a stop, and Carrie was assuming they were in front of the stake. She kept her mouth shut—more out of fury than anything else—but her mind was boiling. _Bastard…nothing you say is true. It _can't _be._ The same horrible traitor voice, in the back of her mind, reminded her that she knew next to nothing of her lineage.

_Shut up, _she seethed at it. _I know enough from Cornell._

Carrie felt Sir Samuel's overpowering presence nearby as he began to bind her to the stake. She fought to control a shudder as she felt his fingers trace her arm while he was leaning in behind her—seconds before he gave the yanked the rope, causing them to burn her skin.

"Burn her before the logs are too wet to light!" A voice from the crowd cried. The rain was lightly soaking everyone, making the already excited crowd to go into frenzy. As the rain came down and dampened Carrie, she felt her simple clothes and blue hair sag.

_Why is this happening to me? Why? This can't be happening…this _can't…

Sir Samuel took advantage of the moment to whisper mockingly for her ears alone,

"And no one is here to save you," he began, picking up on her darkest thoughts. "No Henry, no Ada, no damned _Captain_ Cornell. Wonder if he'll be too upset to work if _you're_ dead?" Carrie's fists tightened to a point where her nails were digging little crescents into her palm. Despite the exhaustion she felt she willed her power to come to her.

_Oh God—why can't I feel it? _Panic was beginning to overwhelm her.

"Cornell will be more than a little upset you fool," she hissed contemptuously, unable to keep her silence even longer. She actually was embracing the anger rushing towards her again. It was a welcome feeling next to the despair that had taken over her. "He'll hunt you down like a dog until you've paid for what you've done."

Sir Samuel seemed to have taken over the duty of tying her up all together. He stood uncomfortably close behind her, leaning in so that his warm, heavy breath tickled her, sending disturbed quivers down her spine. Carrie could feel him give the cord a particularly hard tug. The binds were already cutting into her wrists.

Going in an inch closer, Carrie felt him lean over and place his lips against the moist skin of her neck, mouth parted slightly. Slowly he pulled away by a fraction of an inch, and moved his head upwards. She felt his warm breath running along her neck as he slowly breathed in the scent of her.

Then_—as if _that_ wasn't utterly disgusting—_she felt his hot, wet tongue give the slightest of caresses to her frozen earlobe.

_Don't touch me! _She thought vehemently, too revolted to speak.

An involuntary shudder overtook her; but she still attempted to gather her power into her hands. Nothing came. She also noticed for the first time that her Pendant had begun to burn dully.

She heard Sir Samuel laugh softly as she shuddered again. Again she felt his gauntleted fingers trail her arms tauntingly, causing goose bumps to erupt on her flesh. He was no doubt enjoying every moment she squirmed.

_Damned villagers…why the _hell_ must they be so caught up in hating me?_ She scowled. Not one had noticed his subtle, provocative actions. And it wasn't just anger she felt—there was the horrible, overpowering feeling of terror taking over.

Struggle as she may, she just couldn't draw enough strength to summon her power. _Don't touch me;_ she repeated again, this time more desperate than angry. He was the one with all the power, right now.

And he knew that.

"You foolish girl," he whispered viciously into her ear, "Cornell is the dog. You don't know anything about his past, do you?" Carrie tensed against the stake. Chuckling softly at her reaction, he pulled away, and finished tying her up.

Moving in front of her—she suspected so that his back was to the crowd—she heard the rustling sound of him raising his arms in the act of securing the binds. But in a disgustingly gentle manner though, he pushed her spiky blue bangs away from her face. She felt his hands cup her face, and his gauntleted thumbs brush away her tears in a mock-loving fashion and stroke her skin. His movements were unnecessarily elaborate; he pressed hard against the bruises and cuts on her face.

Despite her pride, her anger, her magic—Carrie was deathly afraid.

And she was horribly ashamed of herself for being so.

She was powerless to help herself. _How could I have ever let myself become so vulnerable? _Samuel dropped his hand and instead tugged on the Blue Crescent Moon Pendant that hung from her neck. Using his other hand, he tilted her head upwards. Very softy, he whispered,

"Scared without him here?" Fingers ran mockingly over the glowing ornament—Carrie could sense it. _Yes, _a small voice whispered truthfully in her mind. A stronger voice added, _but like hell you're going to know._ The Pendant was reacting with her, glowing as her fury and fear rose.

Carrie had had enough—even if she didn't have her powers.

"What would you know?" Carrie goaded, masking her fear. She knew how to hit a nerve with the man. Her temper was flaring up so fast; it was surprising she even managed to contain it. "A man like you will only ever be _second_ best to Cornell."

His strike happened so fast that she barely had time to feel it. But her jaw was throbbing like hell afterwards—proof that it had indeed happened. _Damn gauntlets, they were _built _for striking people's faces. _The villagers had actually noticed that last smack.

And they were laughing—but Carrie didn't hear it.

Anger churned inside of her, taking over every sense she possessed.

"Burn in hell," Sir Samuel growled wrathfully. She heard the knight shift in front of her and the sound of a match being lit. "_Witch_."

Carrie tensed, preparing herself for the match to drop. She waited for the fire to rise from the timber, embracing her. _Bloody hell…I don't _want_—_

_Thump._

Carrie started as she felt a strong vibration ripple through the palisade, starting from the back. She heard Sir Samuel curse as he leaned around her to check.

"Dammit! Who threw that?" Carrie had no idea what Sir Samuel was talking about, but she took advantage of the momentary lapse in attention.

_I'm _not_ going to die at your hands._

The cords felt like mere threads against her skin. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that whatever had been thrown at the stake had torn through the ropes binding her. Wrenching herself away from the post, she felt the lumber crack. She blindly threw herself forwards; just as she felt the log roll past her. Connecting with something hard, she realized she had knocked the startled Sir Samuel out of the way.

The binds tying her hands too had been threaded. Stumbling blindly, she found the stone path that went through the whole village. As she raced forwards, she tugged off the blindfold off from around her eyes.

_Bloody hell!_ The sharp light hit her eyes hard. Praying her feet would take her somewhere safe, she ran. _Dammit, I won't let them kill me!_ The villagers were chasing after her.

"We can't let her escape!"

"She'll eat our children!"

"She's going to rejoin her Master!"

As much as the words fueled the villagers, they helped Carrie. _Like hell they'll get me again! _Pushing herself to the maximum speed, she dodged between houses and shops. It seemed the entire village had shown up for her burning; not a soul was in a building.

_Someone…help! _An overwhelming feeling of desperation came about her. She had no one, and these villagers were hunting her down, resolute on watching her die.

She could hear the furious yells echo throughout the entire village, scaring the few birds still out and frightening her as well. The rain was pouring now, and her long bangs were falling into her eyes. Shaking her head, she felt droplets of water freeing themselves from her. With tears streaming down her face, the girl could barely see; though she didn't dare stop.

_You _can't _die, you _can't _die…_repeating the maxim over and over to herself, she continued racing forwards, ducked low so no one could see her.

Her vision was blurring around her; noises became muffled. Breath rattled in her lungs and her head pounded horribly. Every inch of her body was engulfed in weariness—darkness bordered the edges of her consciousness. Pushing it aside though, she carried on.

* * *

Cornell's heart was in his throat. It had been a long time since he'd been this afraid. _Carrie, oh God, Carrie, please be okay_. One would think there wasn't a need to worry; Cornell could feel the Blue Crescent Moon Pendant burning fiercely, meaning Carrie was still alive. _But alive can still mean barely…_ In the process of being burned to death, being tortured into confession and repent…there was any number of things that made death seem a relief. _And I have no way of predicting when the Pendant will stop._

He did however, notice that the feeling of the Pendant burned stronger when he was in certain areas; weaker in others. He could sense it purely because he had been the one to give it to Carrie when she was young—but before that; it had been his to represent his other self.

_She must be running_.

Two equally powerful emotions flooded through him. Relief because he realized she had escaped—dread because he knew the village, particularly Samuel Clayton, the one in charge of her burning, would not take that well. Increasing his efforts, he used the varying strength of the Pendant to track her. Cursing, he ducked through various shops and houses, attempting to catch on to Carrie's trail.

As he neared the forest, a powerful scorching sensation tore through him. Though it only lasted briefly, Cornell knew he was closing in on the girl.

* * *

Dimly she realized that she had gained distance between herself and the villagers; their cries were getting fainter. Tripping on a fallen branch, Carrie landed hard on the ground.

"Damn!" She cried out, instantly cursing herself. _Anyone could hear me…_Mud and dirt soaked through her white skirt and to her freezing body. But she merely kicked the branch away and staggered upwards. Throwing a hand on her face, she brushed away tears from her face. _You _can't _die at their hands…you can't let them…_

Taking a swerve around a large tree, she felt someone grab her from behind.

"NO! Get away from me!" she burst out. Her captor had a firm hold on her though, and didn't seem keen to let her go. With a tug, they attempted to pull Carrie towards them. _I _am _going to die…_

Struggling in the person's arms, she whipped around to strike her captor.

"Let me _go_!" she cried out. "Don't—" The person's voice interrupted her,

"What are you—" The last of the magic had left her, and she couldn't summon the energy to bring it out again.

That didn't mean that she wasn't willing to put up a fight though. Flailing her hand out, she struck them in the chest.

Hard.

"Ow! Carrie! Stop that!" a male voice cried. She wasn't in a mood to listen though. Wrenching herself free, she continued forwards, staggering. But the man—_oh God, it better not be Clayton—_still had a hold of her forearm.

With strength much greater than her own, the person dragged her back. Fresh tears were welling up in her eyes. _I _am _going to die; I _am _going to die…_

"Leave me—" A hand muffled her panicked shriek. The other arm had wrapped itself around her waist, securing her arms to her sides. Carrie attempted to throw her weight forwards, but to no avail. The man countered by leaning back with his own. _Dammit all, I don't _want_ to die…_

Turning the trembling girl into his chest, the man enclosed Carrie in a comforting hug.

"Carrie," a patriarchal voice soothed, running a hand over her blue hair. "It's just me." A powerful wave of relief and exhaustion enveloped her once she recognized the voice, and finally, giving up the fight, she succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay… keep a-readin'. ;) 


	5. The Blue Crescent Moon

The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness 

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! It's me again? How'd you like Part I? And yeah…it's still Day One plus it's still Carrie's POV. Link will be back next chapter! Though…I'd hope you guys wouldn't mind Carrie's perspective by now…

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Castlevania land…well, I own Carrie' orphan buddies, and Gabriel…I think that covers it…

PRONUNCIATION KEY: Felix (FAY-leex)

* * *

_**Chapter Five: The Blue Crescent Moon**_

**

* * *

**

_Darkness. It was everywhere. It surrounded her, swallowed her, tugged her into its unfathomable embrace._ Don't! _Carrie begged_. I—I can't _breathe_! Stop!

Don't! . I—I can't ! Stop! 

_Flailing her arms and legs, she madly attempted to get away from it. The abyss refused to let her go though, no matter how Carrie struggled._

_There was nothing. Nothing but the void and her, all alone. _

_The darkness pressed in around her, squishing her. She could feel it. Breath rattling in her lungs, Carrie wildly searched around. _Help me! Someone! Please!

_Gold._

_She could see it, just barely._

_It shone through the darkness, providing a path for her. Desperate for any escape, Carrie struggled within the blackness towards the source. As she moved forwards through the thick air, the light separated, forming two rays. Getting even closer, she saw that each ray had a defined shape. The shape of…an eye. A sharp, observant, canine eye. With a lurch, Carrie threw herself forwards. _

_Coming to a rolling stop, she looked up. _

_Suddenly it wasn't so dark anymore. _

_Around her—all around her—was a hazy, misty forest. Carrie blinked twice, meeting only the same pair of eyes. It was all too familiar._

_Eyes of burnished gold blinked at her. Carrie held her breath._ Don't hurt me_, she begged silently in her mind. A calmer voice in the back of her mind whispered, "You can trust them, Carrie. Don't worry." The voice sounded awfully familiar, though it wasn't her own. _

"_What do you want?" Carrie whispered. The wolf gave a low, almost benign sort of growl in its throat. Tail wagging, it gently padded its paws against the grass, and headed back to the forest. _

Wait! _She called, not exactly understanding why she asked an animal._ Help! I don't know…please—I'm so confused…_The wolf stopped in its tracks. It seemed as though it had been prepared to wander the newly formed forest. With the slightest of motions, it flicked its head. Carrie hastily threw herself to her feet; for the wolf had already gained some distance. _

_Enough distance so he could barely be visible anymore. _

_"Hey! Where—" Carrie stopped herself short. The forest had become much sharper; Carrie could make it out now. A light mist still hung in the air, delicately reflecting the sunshine that filtered through the trees. The tiny drops of dew shone as they clung to the blades of grass and clumps of leaves._

_The wolf was no where to be seen._

_A clearing came into the distance. White light played through the trees, spilling over her. _

_Carrie glared up at the sky. She continued walking backwards, eyes upwards. Unease was building up inside of her. Hands curling into a fist, she attempted to draw on her power. Nothing. _Damn…

_She pressed herself for her powers to come. Once more, nothing_. Why? _It was as though a block was there, a wall, obscuring her path and leaving her defenseless. _

_A voice hissed from the ground. Terrified, Carrie kept moving but studied the ground now instead_. Oh God…_A sudden rupture from behind caused her to whip around._ Oh no! _Carrie threw herself forwards at the sight of the fiends before her._

Corpses! Oh God—Corpses! _Their rotted hands ripped free from the earth, grabbing at her, clawing at her. Their desolate moans filled her ears…and though she stepped dangerously close to them a number of times, not one managed to grab a hold of her._

_Carrie raced forwards, intent on getting away. Skidding suddenly on the forest floor, she stumbled onto the forest floor. Staggering, she collapsed on to her knees. Before she knew it, she was face to face with Nicholas. For a reason unbeknownst to her, she felt...relief._

_Wait…_

But you're at the Orphanage…

_With a jolt, Carrie remembered he was _not_ at the Orphanage...he was..._

...you're gone...

_Nicholas's dazed expression had quickly become foul; his hand whipped out and struck the young woman. Toppling sideways, Carrie found herself in shock._ Nicholas…why…_Face in the dirt, Carrie struggled to get herself to her feet. Reaching an upright position; with hands tied behind her back, vision obscured._

"_What are you doing?" she shrieked. A sharp blow to the smack of her face sent her back to the ground._

"_Are you going to confess now?" Sir Samuel snarled_. Wha—no! You can't—I already…_Carrie forced herself to her feet and pushed her self past the man. _What on earth is happening?

Why is this happening?

_My mother must've hated me…I'm cursed, aren't I? A child's voice snapped scathingly in the distance. Blindly, Carrie raced through the rapidly returning darkness, determined to outrun it. _

_Carrie faltered in her steps as she skidded into an all-too-familiar into kitchen. _

"_Carrie!" Ada exclaimed. "You—you're mother—she wouldn't have…" Carrie watched as her twelve-year-old self pouted and jumped down from the kitchen counter. Cornell had said nothing, and was leaning against the window sill. Elder Carrie stepped into the kitchen, but no one seemed to notice. Cocking her head sideways, she attempted to digest the scene before her._

"_How do you know?" the Child fired back irritably. Carrie remembered this scene...she remembered the emotions tumbling through her twelve-year-old mind... Ada had had no idea…none at all…she hadn't been at the marketplace that day…_

"_They hate me!" Carrie watched the Child scream. "They tried to hurt me! Having my…my curse doesn't do any good…any powers only cause trouble in the end…who would want them?" Something Elder Carrie had never noticed before happened; she saw Cornell stiffen at her words…_

Why?

Idon't understand…what's happening…_her vision was spinning faster and faster…visions continued to emerge as Carrie was thrown backwards into the black abyss…_

_She collapsed on the hardwood floor of the Orphanage. Looking up, she saw her young self, Beth and Cornell all in the room. Not one of them had given the slightest of motions to acknowledge her presence._

"_Where did it go?" he demanded. Carrie waited for her young self's response._

"_I dunno..." the Child said casually, and plopped herself onto the floor of the common room across from Beth. The toys were spread out, waiting for the two five-year olds to play with them. Carrie stepped farther into the room, confused by the memory that was replaying itself in front of her eyes._

"_Carrie," Cornell frowned at the Child. "That was important to your mother…"_

"_I said I was sah-wee! Weel-ee... " she pouted. _

_Carrie watched everything fly by…her whole life…whirling inside her head madly, she looked for an escape from this place…any escape…_

_She felt something grab her collar and drag her backwards._ Please, not the darkness...I don't _want_ to go back...

"_Put 'er in the fire next!" a voice jeered. Carrie could see again. Looking up, she saw an elderly woman had a hold of the Child's collar and was sneering down at her. Carrie tensed as the Child looked around. She had been supposed to be sticking with Cornell that day, Carrie cursed the Child self for not remembering. That's what Ada had told her that morning at the Orphanage, Elder Carrie could still hear those words in her head. The woman shoved Carrie-the-Child backwards, forcing her to trip on her own two feet. The Child jumped up, in a huff. The only thing on the nine-year-old's mind was to get away—Carrie remembered that. _

_Away from the screams…both Carrie's shuddered. Against their better judgment, both Carrie's threw a glance over her shoulder at the woman in the flames…her cries of agony ripped through Carrie's mind, leaving fresh marks._ Why would they burn her? _The young girl thought desperately._ She didn't hurt anybody…it's not fair…_Without realizing it; hot tears had begun to pour down both Carries' faces. The smell of scorched flesh reached her nostrils._ I have to get away…

_Throwing a hand over her face, the Child shot forwards, back to the Orphanage. _

_Poor girl…_

"_Push her back in the fire! She's escaping!"_

_Fire seared onto her skin, ripping at the flesh…Carrie was in the flames now..._ No!

_She cried to the young girl turning her back on Carrie._ Don't go! You—you're the only one…_The blue haired girl just ran away, sobbing._ I'm going to die…no…this wasn't how…

_Carrie…a voice whispered. The voice sounded feminine, and it echoed through her head. _

_Carrie, the voice said again. Why?_

Why _what_? I didn't ask for this…any of this…

"_Carrie!" Ada exclaimed. "You—you're mother—she wouldn't have…"_ I know…

"_Where did it go?" Cornell demanded. "That was important to your mother…" _But I didn't…

"_You're not…different…you're just…special…" Ada stammered, looking away._ Then why are you holding back tears?

"_Slaughterer! You killed Nicholas!" Voices jeered._ NO! You weren't even there…

"_I'm saw-ee…" Beth whispered. _That was my mother's…

"_Forget about what those people say—those fools are the wicked ones, not you," Henry said fiercely._ Then…why doesn't anyone else believe you?

"_Burn the ungrateful wench!"_

"_Confess, Witch!"_

"_Slaughterer! You killed Nicholas!" _No…I tried to save him…I _tried_…

"_Burn in Hell with your Master!"_

Her eyelids snapped open. _Where am I?_ Panic engulfed her still-weary mind. Carrie hurled herself into a sitting up position. _Oh God…_she could feel warmth against her back. She threw the blanket off of her quickly.

The heat was still there. Whipping her head around at the source, Carrie started.

Fire.

_Don't! _She pleaded suddenly in her mind. _Please…don't hurt me…don't! I don't want to die!_

Hysteria seized her, flooding her veins and overtaking her mind. Forcing herself onto all fours, she scrambled away from the hearth. As she stumbled, the wounds on her hands and knees were set aflame. Her head collided with something hard, but Carrie barely registered that she had knocked something out of the way in her frenzy to escape. Ignoring all aches, she threw herself against something hard—a wooden sofa, no doubt.

Leaning against the upholstery, Carrie took in deep, staggering breaths. _Calm down_, she shushed herself. _Oh god—Carrie, calm down. Just calm down. _Carrie threw her arms around her legs and lowered her head behind her knees. Voices from her nightmare still echoed in her mind and she remained unawares of the shudders running through her body.

_Why? _A voice burst out silently.

Forgetting the pain, she threw her head back on the sofa she was leaning against. As soon as her head made contact though, a wave of dizziness washed over her. Her head jolted off. Out of pure instinct, she threw her hands over her eyes, expecting to luxuriate in the coolness of her palms.

She felt her face inflame and her hands felt rough on her eyes.

When she lowered them, her vision was still swimming from the agony. Focusing her gaze on her hands, she felt fear creeping farther into her. Bandages were wrapped tightly where there were wounds from tripping in the forest so many times. Lifting her fingers to her face, she winced as she felt the bandage along the gash on her cheek. Out of curiosity, she pressed gingerly against the rest of her face to see what would happen. Pain fired up on her face as she harassed the bruises.

She quickly lowered her hands.

Carrie tensed as the dream continued to bring unwanted memories to the surface. _They wanted to kill me…they were actually _cheering_ to see me die…_

What was worse…

…_it was the first time_…

All her life, they had feared her, hated her, ostracized her…but they had never tried to burn her alive. Never. And yet there she had been, all alone, people in a frenzy to see her suffer..._and no one cared…_

_I was beaten and no one stopped him. I was going to die and no one tried to stop it. The fire had been about to burn…_Carrie bit her lip. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the tears from escaping her.

_I almost died; I was so close…_the reality of the whole ordeal caught up with her.Before she could stop them, tears were beginning spilling over. _I'm _not_ going to cry…who cares what those stupid villagers think…I'm _not _upset…there's no _rea_son to cry…_Hot tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision and soaking the bandages.

Ashamed, Carrie threw her head back into her hands, ignoring the pain this time. She pressed herself harder against the sofa. _No one was there…I was going to die…and no one did anything…_the thoughts kept rolling over in her head, repeating themselves again and again no matter how she tried to stop it. Sobs racked through her body, barely muffled by her hands. _Why? For goodness sake—why? _

There was a rustling noise of a door being opened and a dish being placed on the floor, and before Carrie knew it she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Carrie…come on…" The soothing voice was familiar; she had a very good idea of whose it was.

She felt Cornell tenderly try to tug her into his arms. Carrie resisted though—she was already humiliated as it was with the trial and burning. She pressed herself harder against his sofa, and even shifted around so her back was to him.

Instead of trying to bring her to him, Cornell moved so that he was in front of the girl, and he encircled his arms around her. Face covered in her hands, this time Carrie allowed him to pull her close to his chest.

Still half-ashamed of her tears, she buried her face in the crevice of his shoulder, muffling her sobs once more. She felt his chin resting on the top of head and his fatherly hand smoothing back her hair.

"Shhhh…Carrie, I'm so sorry…I should have been there sooner…it's all right now…"

Emotions tumbled around in her head; fear…relief…anger…hate…humiliation…disgust. She shuddered again as she remembered Sir Samuel. Carrie's face still throbbed.

_Dammit!_ She screamed silently as her tears continued to soak Cornell's navy shirt._ I hate you, Clayton!_

Once the majority of her sobs had died down, Cornell shifted her around so that she was at arm's length.

"Carrie…" he let his sentence hang, empathy in his voice. Carrie looked up and saw he was frowning down at her, concern wrought in his silver brows. He held a very intense gaze; his eyes seem to penetrate into the very mind.

Growing up with him as her caretaker meant Carrie was quite accustomed to his look; though many were taken aback at it. Still though, Carrie found herself lowering her own eyes and staring at the ground instead.

Sometimes she worried maybe Cornell could see exactly what was going on her mind.

And this wasn't time she felt like having that happen.

Emotions were still swirling in mind, so Carrie grabbed at the one she was most familiar with.

Anger.

"People are stupid," she began savagely, hugging herself tightly and still staring at the sitting room floor. "They didn't—they don't even know—I hate…" Cornell said nothing, merely waited for her. Whipping her head around, she turned to face the man who had become the primary father figure in her life.

"He hit Ada!" she accused angrily, shaking her blue bangs out of her shining eyes. "What was I supposed to do? Just sit there and take it? I mean—I came out, and that bastard and his lot went and tied me up! Then they go—then they go and drag me through the village so people can jeer at me. The _whole_ village! They hate me Cornell, every last one of them! And I've never done _any_thing to _any_ of them!" Cornell grimaced sympathetically but didn't offer any words. Carrie, now on a roll, continued.

"Clayton said…he said that…I—I killed _Nicholas_!" Carrie cried. "I didn't kill him…I never would've…Cornell—you understand, right?" She wasn't sure why she was so desperate about being reassured of this…but hearing those words from the villagers had hurt far more than Samuel's slaps ever could.

_I didn't kill him,_ she kept repeating. But that ugly voice in the back of her mind taunted her. _You as good as_, it whispered. _You let him down, didn't you? That vampire has him…what difference is that with death? _Cornell, sensing her distress, tugged the girl back towards him and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her into an embrace and she complied, resting her forehead against his neck. Rubbing her back fondly, he gave her a tight squeeze.

"It's okay Carrie," he assured her. "Don't blame yourself—Nicholas wouldn't have." Carrie relaxed. But though the ugly voice quieted down at his words, Carrie suspected it'd come back later. She could tell Cornell was curious as to what happened, but thankfully he kept silent. Carrie didn't feel like retelling the whole ordeal. She hated the feelings of regret and shame that overtook her when she thought of Nicholas. _Oh Nicholas…I'm so _sorry_…_

So instead, she jumped to a subject that fueled her anger. Biting off every word with contempt, she said, "Clayton tried to make me confess." Cornell sighed resignedly.

"I know…who did you think cleaned up your face?" He asked, turning where he sat so he could scoop up the mug he'd set down before. Carrie sighed and sank away from him. Being struck four times by a knight with an armed hand…

"How bad was it?" she asked gloomily. Leaning against the wall, she hugged her knees up to her chest again. She blew her bangs from her face, wincing as the sharp air met scratches on her face.

Turning back around to face her with the mug in hand, Cornell gave her a wry grin.

"Not as bad as some Witches are beaten," he pointed out optimistically. Carrie made an incredulous noise.

"That's hardly a comfort, considering most Witches ever burned are beaten so badly they eventually confess—even though they _knew_ they were innocent," she said dully, reflecting on past burnings she had attended. Against her guardian's wishes at that. Cornell raised his eyebrows at her.

"And then you escaped, right?" he guessed. Carrie began to nod, but the scowl found its way back to her visage.

"Yeah, but before that Sir Samuel went and insulted my mother, calling her a bloody whore." Cornell's face darkened. _That's right_, Carrie recalled silently. _He knew my mother…_

"Don't get worked up over what a man like Clayton says; you're only letting him take advantage of your emotions." Carrie opened her mouth to rebuttal, but Cornell cut her off.

"Drink up; it'll make you feel better." He attempted to hand her the mug.

Ignoring it with a brush of her hands, Carrie pushed her self so she was leaning forwards on her knees.

"Not just that! He insulted you too!" she exclaimed fiercely. "You know how jealous he is…he just wouldn't keep his opinion to himself! I wasn't just going to listen to that bull—" Cornell shot her a warning look and forced the mug into her hands.

"You've never cared what people think of you—why do you think I'd feel any different? It's meaningless to defend me," he told her, motioning for Carrie to drink up. Carrie grudgingly looked down at the mug in front of her; not catching the bemused smile he had thrown her way.

Sitting back down, she glowered at the liquid. Her drink was an olive green colour—no doubt Cornell had added some sort of medicine. She would have argued back with Cornell, but she knew it was pointless. So she compromised by taking a drink from her mug.

As soon as it was in her mouth, she gagged and spat out the concoction.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cornell laugh silently at her reaction. _Damn, it's medicinal all right._ And though the pungent smell had hit and was burning her throat, she knew it would be worth it. A warm, tingly sensation spread throughout her body, causing the pain to subside slightly.

Cornell took advantage of her silence.

"I hope you didn't make things worse by sticking up for me," he warned. "Sir Samuel is a fool who's better off living in his own little world. It's not smart to drag men like him out of it." Carrie rolled her eyes.

A sudden, curious thought occurred to her.

"Cornell…he said something else to…" Cornell cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Yes?" he prompted. Carrie formed the phrasing of the question in her mind. Hesitantly, she said,

"He…he told me that…you were the dog." Cornell smirked slightly at this.

"Well…if you'd like confirmation on that or something…"

"No—that's not it!" Carrie exclaimed hastily. "Then he said to me that I didn't know anything about your past and—and I don't…" Chewing her lower lip, Carrie thought hard. Looking up, she added tentatively, "What did he mean by that?" Cornell said nothing. Instead his gazed drifted to his lap, head down in thought.

"Er…Cornell?" she prompted carefully. Shifting his grey eyes back to the young woman in front of him, he said softly,

"Carrie…I…look, don't listen to him. He's just…letting on more than he knows. It's…nothing important." It wasn't spoken harshly, nor rudely, but there was a note of finality there. The matter was closed. Carrie nodded quickly, sorry she'd ever brought up the question.

Desperate for answers she knew lay hidden, she added quietly,

"Yeah, but—" She was never able to finish her response; for there was a loud knock on Cornell's front door. Cornell stood up and rushed down the hall to answer it. Once she saw him turn the corner, she stood up. Carelessly, she followed suit. Sidling up against the wall of the very same corner, she listened as the two men held a brief conversation.

About her.

"Is she all right?" a fellow asked quietly, a soft accent slurring his speech. From his voice, Carrie could tell he was a young man. As to his identity, she couldn't be sure of.

"Yes, she's awake and feeling better," was Cornell's soft answer.

"Good, because we may want to be headin' out, sir. 'Specially after the attack."

_Oh no! Not…I swear—an _attack?_ Damn! _Carrie edged closer to hear better.

"What? _Another_ attack?" Cornell cursed.

"Aye, and they were the fiends too, sir. The villagers ought to be making their way back to the Orphanage as well."

"_Back_ to the Orphanage?"

"Aye; they came around before sir, looking for Miss Fernandez. They didn't find her, obviously," the young man responded.

"Right. Thank you, Gabriel. Was anyone hurt?"

"Nay sir, they were just hassled about. Well—the villagers only hurt one boy," he assured Cornell. On a more solemn note, he added, "But then there was the attack from the fiends…I'm afraid the Orphanage wasn't quite so lucky then." _What?_

"All right. We appreciate what you've done for us. But you best be heading back before—" Cornell was cut short.

"Sir! I'm not just leaving. In all due respect, that's preposterous—I'll be coming with you. I'm already a part of this from before, aren't I?" Carrie didn't hear a response from Cornell.

Carrie heard the door close and someone step inside. There was an air of urgency about him. Because though he was startled to find her waiting in the hall, Cornell kept back the lecture. _Not surprising._ Carrie herself was anxious to check up on the children.

"Carrie, come. We must go—the Villagers aren't going to be too happy when they find you alive," he had already begun to walk back to the door. She didn't bother questioning—Cornell knew what he was doing. As soon as Carrie had caught up with Cornell, she noticed a tall young man before her.

While he bore the armor of a knight, he couldn't have been older than his mid-twenties or so. He had rusty, rumpled red hair and a long, tanned face. Though at first glance he appeared lanky, one knew there had to be muscle in him; otherwise he wouldn't be able to stand with so much ease in his armor. Catching her eye, the stoic man gave her a slight nod.

She felt something heavy being thrown on her. Struggling to get it off, she glared at Cornell before he gestured for her to look at it. In her hands was a sturdy brown cloak, fit for traveling. When she put it on, it seemed as though she was lost in the folds of it; it was too large for her petit frame. All the same though, as Carrie stepped outside after Cornell, she appreciated it. She heard the soft noise of the door being closed behind her as Gabriel stepped out after them,

Flipping over the hood—which fell so far it covered everything, save her mouth—she groped for Cornell's guidance. Comfortingly, he grasped her hand and led her forwards. Quietly, the three of them ducked low, and set off for the Orphanage.

* * *

Creeping through the Village, the rain only assisted them. It was pouring now, adding all the more cover up for the pair. It was also unusually dark out for only six o'clock. _But then_, Carrie thought fearfully,_ with Rebirth so close…darkness is only going to continue to gather._ She could barely see anything—fortunately though, Cornell had a firm grasp on her hand and wasn't going to let go. _If he does, I'd be so lost…_

Cornell tugged at her arm suddenly, and yanked her in one direction. Stumbling, she allowed herself to be pulled away. _The children better be okay…_One hand on top of her head, he pressed her into a crouch behind a bush next to Gabriel.

"Shh…someone's coming," he hissed. And indeed, Carrie tensed as a group of Villagers passed by. One of which carried an unlit torch—no doubt because of the rain—and another a sharp pitchfork. Carrie shuddered. _Don't even think about what they'll do with that if they find me…_of course, by trying not to think of it, the wretched thoughts flooded her mind. _Stop it, Carrie. Stop it. _

Fighting to keep from crying out, Carrie restrained the thoughts. As she huddled next to Cornell and Gabriel behind the bush, Carrie felt paranoia creeping in though. Cornell squeezed her hand comfortingly, and turning she saw him attentively watching for the coast to be clear. The Villagers had stopped, and were searching. _They can hear us…smell my fear…_She felt Gabriel tense next to her. The group of villagers was gazing around, trying to make out any trespassers in the darkness and rain.

Fortunately, they seemed blind to the three.

With one last glance, the mob left, carrying their weapons high.

_Thank goodness…_

Cornell squeezed her hand and motioned for them to get back up. Gabriel and Carrie complied, and stealthily got to their feet. For a moment she stood absolutely still before getting pulled away by Cornell, and all was silent. The fear of the villagers returning remained fresh in her mind. Then she heard the soft sound of boots squelching through the wet grass behind her, reminding her of Gabriel's presence.

Cornell had—in hushed whispers—explained to Carrie that Gabriel was one of Cornell's knights, and that he was there to help. "No reason to worry," he had assured her. Carrie had simply shrugged it off; whomever Cornell chose as his knights was his business, not hers. This Gabriel wouldn't have been the first lad to come along under Cornell's training; Carrie just hoped he hadn't been in the village square when she was about to be burned.

Moving quickly and quietly, they eventually reached the edge of the dense forest by the Orphanage—enough cover to get there. Cornell still held her hand, leading her as they ambled and picked their way through woods. Speeding up her pace, she caught up to Cornell so that she was treading beside him instead. Gabriel remained behind, bring up the rear. Noticing her movement, Cornell dropped her hand.

They were walking _in_ the forest now; they were so far in they couldn't even see the Orphanage. Both Gabriel and Carrie had put their trust into Cornell to lead the way. No Villager would dare step into these boundaries, not even the knights. They'd had enough demon-slaying, so the knights weren't likely to go out and find more battles in these cursed woods. But still, they were making slow progress because of the caution Cornell had placed on them as they hiked through the woods.

"Carrie…" Cornell began softly. Carrie looked up at him. In a somewhat hesitant voice, he asked, "Is this where… is this where the attack came from?" Carrie sighed inwardly. She had known this would come. She'd have to explain to Cornell sometime or another.

"Yes…well…we were outside playing when it had happened…" Carrie went on to explain how the Corpses came from apparently no where (Cornell cursed under his breath, "More attacks…"). And how Nicholas had been injured beforehand, then…then how he had been kidnapped by the vampire, and how she had tried so hard to track them…but she failed. She _let him _down. And now… and now he was as good as dead. _And at the Orphanage… more children could be hurt…_

Cornell had been sympathetic, but seemed extremely interested in the vampire.

"You mean you actually saw the vampire take him?" he asked curiously as he ducked under a particularly low branch and held it up for her. Carrie nodded and stepped under, Gabriel following suit.

"Yes… he scooped him up and carried him away," she said miserably. The rain was pounding down on her cloak, not helping the atmosphere. Carrie had pulled back the hood a bit, so that it rested just atop her forehead and the extra material cascaded down in folds around her head.

"I wonder… why didn't the vampire just bite the boy? Why did he go through the trouble to carry him off?" Cornell pondered aloud. Carrie scowled.

"How should I know? Probably wanted to have a nice long drink where I wasn't there to bother him," she responded glumly, head downcast. Cornell glanced at her.

"Maybe…" he looked doubtful.

"Are you thinking sir… that maybe… maybe the boy wasn't for himself to… well, _eat_?" Carrie started; it was the first time Gabriel had spoken. Cornell did a half-shrug; he merely lifted one shoulder than dropped it again, a considerate expression on his face.

Carrie scoffed. "Excuse me?" she demanded softly. Cornell shook his head.

"Never mind… just an idea…" he lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Carrie blew her sopping bangs out of her eyes and grimaced. _Cornell… sometimes you're so strange…_she remembered their brief, almost-exchange about his past. _I really don't know anything about him…_Carrie had never minded before, but when she had been tied to that stake, knowing she could have died…it suddenly seemed a lot more important.

_Tied to the stake…_Carrie shuddered as her thoughts constantly strayed back to the fresh memories. Wanting to break the silence—and quiet her own thoughts—she asked a question she had been pondering on.

"Cornell," she began in whispers. He turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "How… how did you find me? I mean, when I was lost in these woods."

"The Blue Crescent Moon," he responded simply. Carrie was perplexed.

"Er…?"

"You know, the Pendant." He motioned to the ornament around her neck. Carrie raised her hand and fingered it fondly. It was still warm despite the rain that was pouring down on them and wind that was blowing fiercely.

"But… how?" she inquired. Cornell sighed.

"That Pendant… remember when I gave it to you?" Carrie nodded. "I told you it was once mine—it was named after me, remember—and when I gave it to you…it really has become yours. I was able to use the connection _you _had with it to track you."

"Really?" Carrie was impressed. She'd been told the Pendant had other uses, but never this before. "So you've been tracking me for the longest time?"

"Not _you_ exactly…but your _power_," he responded prudently. Carrie laughed slightly.

"The very thing I was persecuted for saved me while I was tied to the—," a sudden thought occurred to Carrie as she remembered being bound to the stake. "Cornell…how did you get to me so fast?" Cornell looked down, confused.

"Er…one of the squires came a while after and told me…"

"So you ran all that way?" she asked curiously.

"What way?" Cornell demanded.

"_You_ _know_, up and around the Winde Village _square_, behind the _stake_—"

"Uh… Carrie, the first time I saw you was when you came 'round that tree in the woods…" Cornell said, still confused. Carrie glared at him.

"No! When I was at the stake—" Carrie stressed, frustration growing. "How… when I ripped free, who threw…?"

The strangest feeling occurred to Carrie, and turning around she locked eyes with Gabriel for a moment. As though he had read her unfinished thought, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth in response. A frown creased Carrie's, as she wondered. _But…_

_Damn…the man has aim…_Carrie, catching on, grinned back at him.

Turning back to face in front, Carrie's fingers strayed back to the ornament around her neck. A question came back to Carrie as she thought of the Pendant, one she had asked many times before in her life.

"Cornell… why were you ever named the Blue Crescent Moon?" she asked, hoping to finally receive a proper answer. Cornell just shrugged, as he always did.

"My parents were strange people…well, everyone I knew was strange. Guess they just felt like naming me that because they hoped to nurture the stronger side of myself," he suggested mildly. This was usually the answer she got too, except… the last part. _Maybe he realizes too that I don't know anything…_Carrie was quite content to have gotten that much after years of trying; she didn't bother prying farther.

Lost in her thoughts, Carrie didn't realize the fallen log before her. Tripping, she just caught herself before she hit the forest floor. _Damn stupid trees…_she thought as she brushed off her dirtied palms. She had been about to pull herself up when strong arms grasped her shoulders and brought to her feet. Flipping her fallen hood back up, she glowered at Cornell.

"I could've got up myself you know," she sulked, straightening her white skirt. Cornell shook his head at her, a smile just barely concealed.

"I know, but what kind of knight would just abandon you?" he replied promptly. Carrie blew her bangs away form her face.

"I can think of plenty…" she muttered under her breath, mind going back to the dream. Face grim, Cornell gave her a wistful half-smile.

"I know—I'm sorry, Carrie. Really…if I had kept my men in better line…" Carrie hated the remorse in his voice. Idea striking her, she jumped to a subject that she found rather amusing.

"Don't _wor_ry about it! You're the Captain… that's a lot of stress right there! Besides, there have to be a lot of advantages to being Captain. I mean, especially with the women—" Carrie was cut off by Cornell.

"Carrie..." he warned. "I know where you're going…" Carrie smirked, feeling lighter than she had all day.

"I mean, the women must _adore_ you! I've seen for myself how they act when you're around—even the ones who have husbands! I mean, c'mon!" Cornell attempted to interrupt, but Carrie overrode him.

"You ought to get married!" she enthused, spreading her hands out before her. Gabriel stifled a laugh behind them. Though Cornell was a little ways ahead of Gabriel and Carrie, clearing the path for them, she heard him sigh.

"Carrie, don't be ridi—" Carrie cut him off.

"Oh, c'mon Cornell! You're fit, you're handsome, you're thoughtful, sensitive—" Cornell had stopped so she could catch up, crossing his arms.

"Carrie," he cut her off, quirking an eyebrow, "if you don't stop this, I'm going to think _you_ want to marry me."

Carrie only snickered and brushed her wet bangs off her forehead. Taking two steps for his every one, she treaded beside him. Looking up, she gave a mock-considerate look. In a voice of mischief, she suggested, "You never know. Maybe if I was ten years older—"

"Twenty," Cornell interrupted.

"Twenty?" Carrie repeated, confused. She thought back on the years—then the mathematics clicked in her mind. "Right!" she said brightly. "You're in your _thirt_ies! See, there's another reason any woman would love you! You look so _young_!" Cornell rolled his eyes exasperatedly, but not unkindly.

"Well, if I was twenty years younger myself, I'd go after a fine lady like yourself," he teased. Smirking slightly, he threw an arm around her shoulders. "But then," he continued, eyes twinkling with mischief for the first time in a while, "I'd have competition." Turning to look over his shoulder, Carrie watched as him and Gabriel shared a significant—and annoying, in Carrie's opinion—glance.

Carrie shot them a perplexed look.

"Excuse me?" she demanded. "What are you trying to say?" Cornell grinned down at her.

"Nothing," he replied innocently, turning back around and looking ahead. Whipping her head around, she shot a glare at Gabriel, getting no response. Turning back around, Carrie punched Cornell in the shoulder.

"C'mon! Tell me!" she pleaded. Cornell was quite clearly finding this amusing. Removing his arm from around her shoulders, he began racing forwards again. Turning to look at her over his shoulder, he called,

"Hurry up Carrie! We're almost there!" Carrie glowered, remaining resolutely on the spot.

"Cornell! Tell me! What did you mean?" she cried out after him. The man said nothing in response. But even at a distance, Carrie could hear him laughing at her. She felt Gabriel approach beside her.

"Hurry, Miss Fernandez. The Orphanage—we're practically there." Forgetting her frustration with Cornell, Carrie felt massive relief in knowing she was almost home. _Thank goodness…_She wasn't sure how much more ducking and creeping through these woods she wanted to do. Eager to rejoin Ada and Henry with taking care of the orphans, she prepared to run forth after Cornell.

But something caught her attention and held her to the spot.

In the distance, Carrie could hear a ruckus of noises and yells. _What…what's that coming from…_a sudden memory occurred to her as Gabriel's words came back to her. _Oh goodness…the children…_ Fear gripping her, she dashed of to the Orphanage.

* * *

Already a ways ahead of Carrie and Gabriel, Cornell was closest to the Orphanage. 

Which was exactly why he was the first to skid to a halt. He stopped near the building, right in the fields. Cornell gazed, slightly aghast, at the chaotic mess of an Orphanage before him.

Knight's horses remained tethered to the Orphanage stable; the steeds themselves looked both anxious and stressed. Not a lot were actually tied though, many simply roamed through the fields, masters too busy to look after them. Bodies—of both monsters and humans—littered the meadows, and the stench of it was almost too much to bear for Cornell's keen sense of smell. Thankfully, the flesh had yet to decay—but he gagged at the scent of blood, which swarmed at him from all directions.

The knights themselves—about a dozen of Cornell's most loyal and trusted men—were scattered throughout the fields and running in and out of the Orphanage. Some were wounded seriously, others not so bad. A few, to Cornell's horror, were bodies among the grass. The older knights were huddled beside the Orphanage alongside Ada and Henry, pouring over a map and absorbed in a rapid meeting.

_Oh Lord…_he had been about to sprint all the way to the front porch when something crashed into him head-on. He stumbled forwards, just catching himself. Whirling around, Cornell checked to see who had been hurt.

Carrie pushed herself to all fours—she had taken more of a blow than he had on impact—and shook her hair away from her face. She glared up at him the ground.

"What did you do that for? You could've at least _warned_ me if you were going to stop so suddenly!" she exclaimed. Cornell smiled lightly and offered her his hand. Just as he expected though, she ignored it and climbed to her own feet.

"Would you have heard?" he asked. Carrie blew her bangs out of her face and rolled her eyes. Turning her back on him, he heard her gasp when she took in the sight before her. Gabriel had just caught up with them—and though he too was shocked at the havoc within the Orphanage, he masked it quickly.

"I—oh my goodness…Cornell! What happened?" she burst out desperately. Carrie snapped around to face him, eyes shining. _Poor girl…_Cornell grimaced and put an arm around the young woman's shoulders. Turning his attention to the young man, he said,

"Gabriel, go to the knights by the Orphanage—the ones holding a meeting—and tell them I'm going to be there in a moment." Gabriel nodded and was quick to scurry away. On arm still around Carrie, he motioned for them to move forwards. The girl was looking extremely furious at the sight of things; she seemed to have forgotten Cornell all together. Sighing, the man leaned over to calm her down.

"Carrie…c'mon, relax. I'm sure everyone inside is okay," he whispered, completely unconvinced. _There's no way that everyone escaped harm…_Glancing down, he scowled worriedly. _And if we wait here any longer, the villagers will make sure Carrie will get even worse…_As though Carrie had been thinking the exact same thought; she shrugged of his arm and shot forwards. Her reasoning though, probably had to do more with his former thought. Cornell cursed—running blatantly obviously in the open meadow like that was not a very smart move in her position.

Following suit, Cornell raced after her. _No matter how many times I warn that girl to be careful, she never listens. _And one day—Cornell loathed the thought—she could end up seriously paying for it. Casting a concerned glance in her direction, Cornell thought, _just like her mother…_

* * *

Storming up the porch stairs, Carrie burst open the doors to the Orphanage. Anger was boiling through her, making her head pound and her vision blind. _Dammit all…why wasn't I here? Why did the attack _have_ to happen while I was gone?_ Racing down the hallways, she stopped as she skidded into a startled Felix—he was a fellow caretaker at the Orphanage, the same age as Carrie. Anger momentarily fading, she demanded, 

"What happened? What's going on?" Rather than answering, Felix threw his arms around the young woman instead, arms reaching over the cloak.

"Carrie!" he exclaimed, a look of relief passing over his weary face. "Thank God you're all right…I heard about Clayton coming around…and then…the Village Square…" his sentence trailed off, the imminent message hanging over their heads. Carrie glowered at her friend.

"Felix!" she exclaimed. "I'm alive, okay? Now what happened _here_?" Felix groaned and rubbed his face with his hand. Carrie tensed…normally Felix was such a lively fellow…

"Ugh…Carrie. They just kept _coming_. A company of knights arrived as soon as they could…but…" Carrie was ready to slap him if he took any longer. An intent expression in his emerald eyes, he looked up and said softly, "The _children_, Carrie. The children…they're missing!" Carrie swore so profusely Felix actually threw a slender hand over her mouth.

"What if someone hears that?" he demanded. Carrie struck his hand away and glared heatedly at him.

"Who cares! It's not like there's any young ears here to listen," she snapped. Felix ran a hand through his somewhat long, ash-blond hair, apparently contemplating. With a sigh, he grabbed her wrist, leading her to the common room.

"Not _all_ the children, you nitwit. There are still _some_ here," he responded. An overwhelming feeling of relief filled Carrie… she thought the _burning_ had scared her…

They pulled into the common room, where, to Carrie's surprise, were more knights. Not just knights; children were there as well. For a brief moment, Carrie fought the urge to run as far away as possible—but she quickly came to the conclusion that Felix knew better than to bring her into a room full of enemies. Looking around, Carrie recognized a few faces, but not many. All of them had bandages wrapped around them or were lathering on ointments…_must be the infirmary. _

Stepping into the center of the room, Carrie turned to face him.

"What am I—" Felix cut her off by motioning to a cot on the far-left. Focusing her attention there, she gasped. A young man with auburn brown hair and pale skin was lying there. He had a slight build to his somewhat stocky body, though he was still taller than Carrie.

The young man was Traian.

He was hurt—many were hurt—but he looked as though he had taken quite the beating. Carrie clucked her tongue and strode up to where he lay. Kneeling over, she poked the half-asleep young man playfully in the stomach.

Traian attempted a grunt, but ended up choking. His arm was up in a sling and his face looked cut up and bruised. His shirt was off too—not that it mattered; his shirt was replaced with bandages around his chest. Carrie gave him a disapproving look.

"What did you _do_?" she asked, frowning down at him. Traian was on his back, and a bandage wrapped around his head, covering one of his jade green eyes.

Rolling his head on his neck, he looked up at her.

"What happened to me?" he managed to croak out. "What about you?"

Carrie moved a hand up to her face. _Damn Clayton. _"What do you _think_ happened?" she said sarcastically. Traian smiled weakly at her.

"You're right. Sorry I asked," he whispered gently. Carrie rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't explain what happened to _you_," she retorted. In response, Traian gave a dry chuckle.

"Actually it does… but don't worry about it." Carrie shot him a quizzical look. Traian smiled softly at her, then closed his eyes in feigned sleep.

"Hey! Tri! Don't do that!" No response.

"_Trai_an! Talk to me!" He was breathing heavily; in fact, if she didn't know better, she would've thought he really _was_ asleep. Giving up, Carrie got up and made her way back to Felix. Reading her expression, he whispered to her,

"Er…did you know that some of the Villagers came around looking for you?" he asked. Carrie nodded. "Well, didn't anyone tell you what happened?"

"Sort of…" she remembered Gabriel saying something about it…

"Uh…they were…pretty determined to find you, so they demanded answers from a lot of us. We didn't give it to them…but…they were…uh…pretty determined," he repeated lamely. Carrie gave him an incredulous look. Sighing, he continued,

"Yee-ahh...when we wouldn't say anything about your whereabouts, they took Tri there out for "questioning". Then…the attack came—from the fiends. Tri was pulled right into the action—the man didn't even get a chance to _breathe_ in between—because he was trying to protect his little brother Tass, you know. But…one of the demons got the better of Tri…you can just imagine what happened," Felix finished bitterly, casting eyes towards his friend on his cot.

For a minute, Carrie couldn't say anything as they walked into the main hall. The mere _thought_ of those ogres for villagers coming _here_, to her _home_, and abusing the people she cared about…and, to make matters worse, the Winde Villagers actually weakened the Orphanages defenses against the demons…_poor Tri_…his younger brother missing…_I'll bet the villagers didn't even help…_

"Dammit!" she swore. "I'll kill every last one of them!" The words had escaped before she even had time to stop them. Luckily, Felix had known her long enough to understand her.

"Hey, it's okay," Felix said, squeezing her shoulder. "Tri was really the only one who suffered—and the children were kinda shook up—but it's all right." Carrie glared at him.

"Yeah, sure," Carrie sneered mockingly. "It's _all right_. It's _all right_ that you guys suffered because they hate me; it's _all right_ Tri's lying on a cot, bleeding to death; it's _all right _that the children are missing, and I wasn't here, when I could've protected you! I mean, it's _all goddamn right, _ISN'T IT?" Felix hushed the fuming girl quickly.

"_Carrie!_ Calm down! You're not helping!" Felix whispered urgently, frowning at her. She continued to glower, but she kept her mouth shut. People _were _trying to rest up. People like Traian.

_Dammit all…children missing…people hurt…Beth…_a thought occurred to Carrie. Biting her lip in thought, she asked,

"Felix…how's Beth doing? Is she getting better?" Felix hesitated before answering,

"Um…Carrie, obviously you're very behind…"

"I know _that_," Carrie snapped. Felix continued,

"…well, the thing is…uh…"

"I'm warning you Felix, spit it out or I'll…" Felix threw his arms up over his head protectively and said extremely quickly,

"Beth is missing too!" Muscles tensing, Felix waited for the smack to come.

"Carrie! Don't kill the messenger! Please!" Squeezing his eyes tight, Felix was amazed when the attack never came. Lowering his arms, Felix looked around at the now empty hall.

"Uh…Carrie…?"

* * *

_Why the hell didn't Cornell tell me Beth was missing? Or Gabriel? Or _anybody?_ If something has happened to her…_the poor girl was ill and frail as it was. If she was missing…Beth had gotten out of bed to help Carrie…_Dammit! I hate _every_thing! Arggghh!_

She was bloody going to find Cornell and make him help her get Beth—and the _children_ for that matter—back. _Stupid fiends, stupid Prince of Darkness, stupid…argh! _Her thoughts were constantly swirling in her head, each making less sense and more frustrating than the last.

Leaping down the porch steps, she landed on all fours by the base. Getting back to her feet, she prepared to race to where she had last seen the meeting being held. _Henry will agree with me, Cornell might…Ada will try to stop us, but we can tell her…_mentally, Carrie continued planning out what she would say to her guardians.

Reaching the side of the house, Carrie whirled her head from side to side, searching for the knights. _But…they just had a meeting…_Hushed voices from the back of the house caught her attention.

"…I know…the children…" _That's…Ada…_

"They're being bloody gathered! How—"

Recognizing the voices, Carrie sidled along the outer walls of the house. Once she reached the back, she realized that the voices were drifting out from the open window of the study. _How did they get in there without me and Felix noticing?_ Frowning, Carrie listened to the snippets of conversation she could.

"…we always suspected…" _That sounds like Cornell…_

"…the hell, but the Orphanage! Didn't it do any goddamn good?" _Henry…definitely Henry…_

"…if he has the Sword, we can only hope the Holy…"

"Ha, as if we'll find them…"

Carrie's mind was burning with questions. She was tempted to just holler through the window to get answers. _I _could…_I need to talk to Cornell anyway…_

A sudden scream pierced through the night almost shattering her eardrums.

Carrie literally threw her hands to her ears. _Oh God…_the conversation continued in the study. _Didn't they hear it?_ She thought desperately. The sound was still ringing in her ears and echoing in her mind, banging off the walls. She cringed, and looked around wildly for the source.

By the edge of the forest, she saw a figure in a cloak.

The Cloaked One.

And in its arms, a young child.

_Damn you!_ She couldn't see clearly, but it looked as though the child could be…_Danielle! Dammit! _

"Carrie! Help me!" the young girl screamed. Carrie felt a pang in her chest as the words brought back memories of Nicholas.

_I _won't_ let you get away this time…_

Anger raced through her veins, and for the first time since that afternoon, Carrie could feel energy bursting to be released from her palms. _It's the filthy bastard who took Nicholas… _

To her infinite fury, she watched the Cloaked One smirk that same wicked smirk. Only this time…the fangs weren't there.

"Scared?" It hissed at her, gender indistinguishable. Even at a distance, Carrie could hear its vile voice, clawing through the peaceful night air and tearing it apart. Abandoning all plans of permission, Carrie shot off towards the Cloaked One.

_Dammit dammit dammit! Argh!_

The Cloaked One had already delved into the depths of the forest.

Anger pulsing through her veins, Carrie shot off after the creature. _Come back here! _She screamed in her mind, not wanting to waste any breath. _I'll _kill_ you!_ All fatigue was pushed aside—as of the moment, revenge was the only thing that meant anything to her.

She had entered the forest now, her boots crunched along the crinkled carpet of leaves and the arms of the trees swatted at her. In her present state of mind though, Carrie couldn't have cared less. The cloak Cornell had given her protected her from the majority of the forest's onslaught; though occasionally her already torn and tattered dress would be slashed by the sharp braches of the oak trees.

Her heart slammed itself against her chest; her breath shook in her throat and the pounding in her head from before had returned. Whatever Cornell had given her was wearing off…_or I'm pushing it too hard…_Magic was tearing through her, though very painfully so; Carrie wouldn't be shocked if she burned herself out for the next few days.

As she raced through the forest, she didn't once look back. It wasn't just screams anymore, but voices, words, pleas for help that were infuriating her. She could hear them—they came from every direction, flooding her mind and ringing in her eardrums.

The Cloaked One was taunting her.

"Why have come so far into these woods? The children are long gone…" the voice whispered snidely.

"LIAR!" Carrie screamed. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins, making all of her thoughts distorted and swamped together. "Don't you _dare_ lay a finger on those children! I'll kill you, I swear I will!"

It _knew_ she would come. Carrie scowled, the conversation with Cornell completely slipping her mind.

Everyone now and then, Carrie was sure she had caught up. But then, more voices would chime through the forest, bouncing off invisible walls, crashing against her. She did not know how long she had been running; at this point, it hardly mattered.

In her rage, Carrie found herself colliding headfirst with a tree.

"Damn!" she screamed aloud, clutching her head in her hands.

Acting purely on instinct, she created an Orb in her hand and blasted it right through the tree. Apparently though, the tree didn't seem to want to give up that easily. Though Carrie indeed managed to smash it down, one particularly old branch fell off.

Still not aware of what was going on around her, only of the Cloaked One, she nearly blacked out when it crashed down onto her head.

This time Carrie moaned and collapsed onto the forest floor, head in her hands. Pulling her hand away from her head, she glanced down at it. Blood. It was running down the side of her head and felt thick and warm on her hand. Carrie was amazed that she hadn't lost consciousness. Pushing herself to her feet, Carrie took a moment to take in her surroundings.

She had no idea where she was.

She had delved deep into the heart of these woods, and now nothing looked familiar, _But the _child_ren…we have to find them…_Carrie started. _We?_ Where had that come from? Carrie cursed as she thought back. _Dammit…the Orphanage…I was supposed to get Cornell and Henry…_Throwing herself forwards, Carrie sagged against a tree. It was so far back…she had no idea where she had been going. _At least I had the voices to follow._ Now utter silence dominated the woods.

_Oh no…what do I do now? I can't do this by myself…but I can't just go back…what do I do? _

Turning, Carrie had almost made up her mind to just retreat and get back to the Orphanage to get Cornell and Henry. She would need their skills to get the orphans back…Carrie sighed.

A sudden voice changed her mind instantly.

"So?" it hissed at her, voice now audibly feminine. The Cloaked One.

Carrie whirled back around.

"Where are you?" she cried out into the atmosphere.

"Decided to give up so easily? Going to just _abandon_ them?" Screams shook the forest, erupting from no where. "You're pathetic…a true Fernandez _indeed_. Unless…it was that dog that corrupted your upbringing—"

"_Stop it!_" Carrie screamed, tired of the foul language flung at Cornell. "Insult me as will, bastards…but when it comes to my—my…_family…_"Without another thought, Carrie shot forwards, farther away from the Orphanage. _I don't care…I don't need anybody…I'll save the children by my bloody self! _Fury reignited; Carrie was prepared to run another few miles if she had to. _I swear…"long gone"…as if…_

* * *

**DAY ONE: NIGHT**

The forest seemed to think she had gone far enough though. Nearly losing her balance, she skidded on pebbles. Carrie focused her attention again, gasping for breath.

She had reached a small, secret shoreline. Carrie swiveled her head around, searching for answers. _What the hell? Where am I…?_ Realizing she was being stupid, she remembered—there was only one thing on the other side of this forest. The shore of Foggy Lake.

Mist shrouded the ancient body of water, covering it. Just barely, she could make out the outline of a ship a bit of a ways into it. Everything was silent, save the swishing of the wind and the chirping of the crickets. It was late evening by now—Carrie could smell it in the salty lake air.

Taking a few steps forward, Carrie drifted her gaze upwards. _Oh goodness…where am I?_ A sudden, rustling noise caught her attention.

Whipping her attention back to the shore, Carrie was startled to see a tall, dark-skinned man standing beside canoe and paddle. _He wasn't there before…_Carrie backed up a bit, on edge.

"Who—who are you?" she demanded, trying to keep the note of fear out of her voice. The man stood there saying nothing. He wore a white turban that wrapped around his head, along with a pure white robe that hung from him frame. To top it off, a white scarf was slung around his neck, covering his nose and mouth. This left the only visible part of him as the chocolate-brown skin around his beady black eyes.

"Look—what are you doing here?" she asked again. The man said nothing. No longer afraid of the silent man, Carrie stormed up to him.

"I swear, if you—" The man glared at her, a silence falling between them. He locked eyes with her for the briefest moment, before motioning to his boat. He raised his eyebrows significantly at her. Confused, Carrie asked,

"What? You want me to ride?" In response, the man shrugged, and then nodded to her again. Carrie cocked her head back.

"Do I _want_ a ride? What for?" Motioning with his hand, he elaborately swept his hand towards the ship in the middle of the lake, and then to the land beyond it. It took a moment for it to sink in.

"You're asking…you think I'm…a _Hunter?_" she asked in disbelief. No response. Carrie anxiously grabbed the hem of her tattered dress, contemplating. A sudden voice jeered at her, laughing at her inside of her head.

"_Pathetic wench…you think you can stop the Prince himself? You think you can actually _save_ the children? You're a fool…all will end their lives in service of the Kingdom of Darkness!"_

_I won't—and I won't let the children either! _Carrie responded furiously._ Dammit! You'll regret ever involving me in this bloody Hunt!_

"_Let us see then…" _the Cloaked One's voice sneered at her.

Turning her head, she looked back in the direction of the Orphanage. _Ha, I don't even know where it is anymore…_Carrie recalled that afternoon, after Nicholas had been taken. A pang hit her as she remembered all the children missing. _I swore…if I was a Hunter…that Prince would be dead…_Head still gazing into the forest behind her, Carrie set her jaw. _Just wait, "Prince", I'll make good on that promise…_ Facing the mute man in front of her, she glared at him determinedly.

"That's right!" she stormed. "You better take me across this lake…I've taken up the Hunt!" Marching forwards, Carrie flung herself into her boat, daring the man to refuse.

Nonchalant as ever, he simply picked up his paddle and—with surprising strength—pushed the boat into the water. For a fleeting moment, Carrie thought he was just going to let her drift off—until he stepped into the waters of the shallow shore and climbed into his canoe after her.

Carrie had settled herself down in the front; she sat with her ankles folded and hands crossed in her lap. Breathing heavily, she was careful to keep her face set as the ferryman slowly moved the boat across.

_It's for the children…_she whispered mentally. Mind drifting back to poor Traian, she cursed. _Don't worry Tri; I'll get all the children back…including Tass._

Memories spilling over in her mind, she turned her head around and gave one last wistful look to the woods she was leaving behind. _I hope they don't hate me too much for leaving…_Eyes shifting to the rear of the canoe, she watched as the ferryman stood and moved his arms in a slow rhythmic motion. Noticing her watching, the ferryman's eyes crinkled. Whether it was a smile or a sneer, Carrie couldn't tell.

* * *

The study smelled of old parchment and ink. Rolling up a map he'd been working on with Ada and Henry, Cornell, stuffed it into his rucksack. The other two had already left the meeting between the three of them; they had been eager to check up on Carrie. As soon as he'd arrived, they had bombarded him with questions of her well-being. 

"_Did you get to her in time?" Ada had asked._

"_Basically…Gabriel was there…" he responded._

"_Was she…was she hurt?" Henry interrupted. _

"_Yes…but not too badly…I took care of her…" Cornell said tiredly._

"_How bad…is she going to be okay? A trial is more than any sixteen year old should have to bear…" Ada demanded, concern marring her gentle features._

"_I know…she—she dealt with it…she's okay now, just shaken up…well, okay, you know how Carrie gets…"_

Sighing, Cornell left the room. _Good thing Carrie is here safe now though…Clayton is going to be in so much—_a sudden roar interrupted the Captain's frustrated trail of thought. Shooting out of the room as fast as he could, Cornell let out a particularly vulgar profanity after hearing Henry's voice again. _Foolish girl…I _told_ her…_

"Dammit Felix!" Henry burst out. "Whaddya _mean_ you don't know where she went?!"

* * *

**A/N:** Well, there you go! Another chapter complete! What did you think? Cornell was like one of my favourite characters in the game… so yee-ah. I should warn you… chapter five will probably take a while—I have to synchronize Carrie and Link's timing perfectly… I have a whole schedule worked out lol… things have to fall into place at a certain hour for both of them. Anywho, make sure to let me know what y'all think of this chapter… please? 


	6. In the Dead of Night

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**A/N: **Hello friends, back for more, eh? Lol, sorry it took so long to get this chapter up…damn, I had to edit it SO many times…Anywho, check it out? Whaddy'all think, huh?

Now, the review response thingy isn't allowed anymore within my story, so if you got questions make sure to leave a way for me to contact you! 'Kay? 'Kay!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own ANYTHING, okay? Well, unless you count the random orphans and Carrie's friends…

PRONUNCIATION KEY: Diener (DEEN-hur)

* * *

_**Chapter Six: In the Dead of Night**_

* * *

_**DAY ONE: NIGHT (cont.)**_

_Goddess dammit._

Now. Of all times, _now_ had to be it.

_Why?_ Why did Those above hate him so much? Frustrated, almost betrayed thoughts infected Link's brain, preventing any sense of strategy to surface. There were people in Hyrule who were expecting him back. And he had promised to be there. Worse yet, three of his nine days were going to be wasted in the Four-cursed land, and then he'd need to find a way _back _to Hyrule, then he'd actually have to make the journey…_goddesses, this is ridiculous!_

Link couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so frustrated. He was wasting his time _here_, in this Four-cursed land so he could save _himself_.

_Save _him_self_.

Link felt an uncertainty at these words. Why should he be worrying about himself, when he could be back on his way to Hyrule…_If only you had been more careful…but it's not my fault…_Link groaned and mentally attempted to kick himself. He was going no where thinking like this.

_What am I going to do?_

Castlevania. Of what he knew, he was sure that this was his destination. He had a goal.

Slay the vampire-girl. _No matter how young she looks, she's still a demon…_That didn't shake off the dread at the thought of running his sword through a little girl's body to save himself.

All right, so he had a basic outline of his goal. And he had three days—three _goddess-damned _days—to accomplish it.

_Well, I've met other challenges within the span of three days, why shouldn't I be able to do it again? _Yes, a voice reasoned. But then you had—

_The Ocarina! _That was it! He could use his instrument to rewind time…_but you don't know what could happen. _Link cursed the voice. First it elated him, and then it crushed him with the very same idea. But he had to admit, the annoying voice did have a point. In Termina, Link had been totally unprepared for all that had happened, and the only reason he managed to continually turn it back to exactly _three_ days was because of the scarecrow. Same with the Battle of Time, Princess Zelda had "set" the Ocarina at seven years.

It seemed that while Link could use the power of the Ocarina, he couldn't control it.

Now emotions stirred even stronger then before, Link hardly noticed the lack of echoes around him. If Link hadn't actually stopped walking to check on his trusted flute, then such a fact would've escaped his attention.

Boots coming to a halt, he realized that no where could he hear the crinkling of a smaller pair of feet on the crisp leaves. Suddenly aware of Malus's absence, Link jolted his head up. Slowly he pulled his hand out form his waist pouch and scrutinized the forest around him for the young boy.

"Malus?" He whispered softly. But it was impossible to make out anything. Cackling, the leaves deteriorated as Link's riding boots treaded over them, now searching for the boy. Crisp night air filled his still somewhat-sore lungs as Link began to run faster.

"Malus?" he called, a bit louder this time. This time…

"Over here!" Was the response. Now having a source to follow, Link raced into the depths into the forest after it. He was lucky not to break his neck on the twisted logs and piles of leaves gathered on the forest floor.

Though only just half-past the tenth hour, already darkness had enveloped the forest so completely that Link could barely make out his way. Often a tree branch would whack him in the face, and Link would resist the urge to jerk out his sword and slice everything in his way off.

Indeed, the only light Link could use was from the misty rays that floated down from the moon and cast an eerie, dim glow against the leaves. Now lost again, Link let the still air carry his voice.

"Malus? Where did you go?" If Link had felt frustrated before, it had increased tenfold. Malus had helped him, had told him what he needed to do to save himself, and all he had asked for in return was that Link safely guard him as they approached the docks. _And I couldn't even do that. _

"I…I think I'm right here!" came a soft cry, followed by a snicker. Link quickly swiveled his body in the direction of the voice and renewed his effort to find the young boy. _He _thinks_ he's right there…? _

"Malus…just stay where you are!" Link warned. "I'm coming!"

"That's silly!" The boy called back. "What fun is it if I make it easy for you to find me?"

Link cursed mentally. So _that_ was what this was about. Malus wanted to play a game. Annoyance was now seeping in and overtaking the desperation. Link didn't even want to think about how far off track they'd gone. _Malus…goddess-dammit, why would you play hide-and-seek now of all times? And in _this_ Four-cursed place? _

"Malus!" Link ordered into the atmosphere around him.

"Yes?' Malus answered innocently.

"I'm serious! Stay _right where you are_! This isn't funny!"

"Awww…okay…but you have to find me…I think I'm lost!" More laughter followed this statement. Link's was completely irked by now.

"All right," Link began. "Malus, now—" A sudden, high-pitched shriek pierced through the still night ambiance. Link cringed at first; the sound had come close to splitting his eardrums. But the scream had rung an alarm bell in Link's head; that was Malus's voice.

Irritation forgotten, Link rushed forward, ignoring the loud snaps and crunching from the old twigs and stale leaves below.

"Malus!" he cried, the loudest he had all day. "Don't worry! I'll be right there!" _Just please, please, be alive when I get there…_

Seeing a clearing ahead, Link pushed his legs harder. There was the light there. Skidding to a halt, Link gripped his sheath as he drew his sword.

What he saw made him freeze in mid-motion.

There was the "campsite" he had reached, yes, and that was disturbing on its own. Foul, half-decomposed bodies lay sprawled over the camp floor, their faces wearing an expression of open shock. Well, most of them. Some appeared completely unreadable, almost as though they were sleeping, though. The rest had no face left to read. Fighting the back the urge to gag, Link looked away.

And saw that one of the bodies lay right next to the fire, curled up as though in dormant sleep.

He, Link thought, looked the deadest of all of them. The middle-aged man had crinkled skin with an ill, grayish hue. Grey hair bristled from his scalp, and he wore the clothing of a feudal lord. A simple red, silk cape, brown trousers, a white collar shirt and a deep red sash that hung from his right shoulder.

The other bodies were all dressed similarly.

But open wounds gaped through their shirts; rusty blood dried to their rotten flesh and rumpled clothes. They had obviously been dead for a while.

But that was not what distressed Link the most.

Malus was there, but he didn't look in the least bit disturbed. Rather, he had sat down casually beside one of the dead bodies, and it looked as though as he had been the one that rekindled the flames. Completely still, he sat there on the log, and was once again staring absent-mindedly into the bonfire before him, almost unawares of his deceased companions.

Cautiously, Link stepped forwards.

_Snap._

Malus's head jolted up at the sound of the twig under Link's boot. No expression reaching his face, he said off-handedly,

"Oh, so you found me then." Link nodded his head, unsure of how to respond to such an obvious statement. Malus watched Link for a time before turning to look back into the fire. Link wasn't sure why, but he fought the urge to shudder convulsively.

"Come Malus," Link ordered, gentle as he could. "There's no reason to stay among the deceased." Link motioned with his hand for the young boy to follow. Malus looked up back at Link.

"They're not dead," he responded simply; though he stood up anyways. Cocking an eyebrow, Link felt genuine concern for the lad's sanity creeping in.

"Err…of course Malus," Link began tentatively. "If you say so…"

At that moment, the figure by the fire—the one that had looked the farthest gone out of all of them—stirred. Link instantly felt his muscles tense. _Goddesses…if I have to fight one more demon…_

But this man did not seem a monster. For he simply sat up, stretched out his arms and yawned profusely. Then, rubbing his eyes from his deep slumber, he turned to face Malus.

_What the…?_

For the briefest of moments, Link was sure a shadow passed over the man's face. Then the once-dead man demanded,

"What are you doing here?" Malus actually appeared frightened; the boy had started to shuffle backwards.

"I…" the boy began.

"A child has no place in this forest! Where are your parents?"

The man obviously hadn't noticed Link yet—if he had, surely the man wouldn't have questioned Malus so. But no, the man stood up and advanced on poor Malus, who seemed to be contemplating on an answer.

"It doesn't matter!" Malus's sudden crescendo had frightened some bats nearby out of their trees; Link's eyes flew upwards as he watched them flap about overhead.

Hearing the panic in Malus's voice forced Link to speak up. Shooting forwards, Link paused so that he was in front of the young boy.

"It doesn't matter—he's here with me," Link stated, his words full of an unvoiced challenge.

The man, however, seemed to relax. A slight smile rumpling his dry skin even more, the man merely nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"Ah," he said, his voice as dry as paper. "Good to see someone is looking out for the child." The man did not wait for a response before calmly grabbing the cloak off of one of the dead corpses.

Warily, Link surveyed the man. As the man threw his new-found cloak over his head, he turned back to Link.

"I am Lord Diener, and it is good to see another living soul."

"Er…" the young man let his sentence hang, not knowing what to say. It wasn't as though Diener had left any room for discussion.

"They say that you can get lost forever in these woods," Diener said off-handedly. "Only those with practice can make their way through this unholy forest and come out alive." _Uh…_

"You, son, do not appear to be wise in these ways. But then…you don't seem from around here at all…" His eyes flicked momentarily to Link's elfin ears. Link frowned internally. _Better to be thought of as ignorant then "servant of the devil", I suppose…_he thought, remembering Reinhardt's words.

Link gave a slight nod in response, refraining from comment.

Diener stealthily lifted a sword and scabbard from the ground before swinging it around his shoulder.

"So then," he inquired quietly. "Where would you be heading then?"

Malus, who had stood rigid and silent behind Link for the majority of the time, now spoke up.

"We're trying to get to the docks as quickly as possible," the rushed words came out quietly, and afterwards Malus dropped his head to the forest floor again. He stood shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyes staring determinedly to the floor. Link was feeling rather overwhelmed.

_First a man I'd thought was dead comes to life, and now Malus has gone shy…Guardians, what's wrong?_

"Aye, I can take you there," Diener replied solemnly. Turning to look at Link as he crept into the darkness, he added, "I'll take you as far as the Stone Pits, but after that we'll have to part ways." Link didn't bother asking why—he didn't care much, in honesty. This man was too disturbing for Link's liking. He was like a shadow—always in the dark, always watching but never really there to accuse.

As they treaded through the silent forest, the man continued to swish out of here and there, pointing the way and sending them ominous warnings. Link listened politely, and hoped that their "parting of the ways" would occur soon…

* * *

_**DAY ONE: NIGHT (cont.)**_

_It's all. Your. Fault. _

Every_thing._

Every bloody last goddamned thing.

Carrie glowered at the wall across from her bed, boring holes into it. She sat on her bunk with her back leaning against one wall in her meager cabin, knees to her chest.

_I _hate_ you._

The thoughts raced through her head, each more bitter then the last. Constantly, Carrie was reminded of her failure…of her mistake. _If I'd just been quicker…it's not _my_ fault…it's that bloody cloaked vampire…_Yes, that was the way to go. It _wasn't_ her fault. It couldn't be. She would never let these children go…they meant the world to her…

"…_and the murder of the orphan boy, Nicholas."_

There was a tear in her bed sheets, Carrie had wound the loose thread around her finger and was tugging it at irregular intervals. At this point, she gave it a particularly hard jerk. The off-white string dug into her finger and left deep marks, but the fuming young woman couldn't care less.

Carrie finally yanked her hand away from the hole and wrapped her arms around her legs. Burying her face in her knees, Carrie moaned; traveling by sea was definitely not meant for her.

The nausea was only adding to her dilemma. _Stupid "Tailwhip", stupid Kidnapper, stupid Prince, stupid lake…_A sudden lurch brought her out of her thoughts.

Carrie was thrown to the floor, face first. She didn't even bother to curse though—this was far from the first time.

Carrie rolled out of her awkward position and lay down, legs hooked over the edge of the bed.

_Smack_.

Flipping over had caused the Blue Crescent Moon Pendant to swing up. It had landed right on her face, obscuring her vision and covering her already sore nose.

But that wasn't what hurt the most.

"Cornell…" Guilt overwhelmed her. There was _no way_ she would evade getting into trouble for this one. _If_ she came back alive, that was. _I _will, _though_. _I can't _not.

_Even if I _do_ come back alive…they'll kill me. _Not just Cornell, but Ada, Henry, the Orphanage…they were going to be _so_ mad when they figured out what happened…_damn._

_I am going to be neck deep in trouble…_

And then there were the Winde Villagers themselves. They were furious that she had escaped…they would no doubt stop at nothing to ensure "justice" was served. _Bloody bastards…I'll show _them_ "justice"…_

But anger could only chase away anxiety for so long. Soon enough, she felt frustrated tears forming.

_I'm sorry;_ she could already hear herself arguing. _I'm so _sor_ry._

"_What's the matter with you?" Henry's voice snapped at her. "You're just _trying_ to get yourself killed, aren't you?"_

I am _not…_Even in her head it sounded like feeble muttering to her.

"_Goodness Carrie!" Ada's concerned voice exclaimed. "And after Cornell worked so hard to bring you back…well, at least you're safe now…just promise me you'll never do that again…" _

It's too late now, and I'm doing this…

"_Carrie…why in the world did you run away? You could've been killed…Carrie, you promised me you'd be more careful…"_

Carrie groaned and heaved herself into a sitting position. _I'm doing this for the _child_ren…_

Picking herself up onto her feet, Carrie brush**e**d off her tattered dress and stepped towards the small bureau. The chestnut set of drawers was the only other piece of furniture in the room.

Leaning over, Carrie picked up the cracked hand mirror.

She looked like an utter mess.

Her hair was crinkled and messy, her cheekbone bore a bad bruise, her left eye had blackened considerably, and her lower lip had a deep welt in it. _Curses._

Running her fingers through her blue hair, she was able to flatten it out to a point where it was acceptable. Well, what _she_ considered acceptable.

There was nothing to be done for her wounds—she'd have to wait till they reached ashore for that. Then she could get to…what had the crew men called it?

_Rinaldo's Apothecary and Inn._

Yes, that was it. That was what they had said…though Carrie was somewhat reluctant to trust them.

Shuddering slightly, Carrie put the mirror back down and sat down on the musty floor boards by her bed. Leaning against her bunk, she found her mind drifting back to her climbing aboard the _Tailwhip_—as was the name of the ship—and meeting the crew men…and being caught by the Captain at that…

Sighing, Carrie wrapped her arms around her legs. At first she had feared for her life…but the Captain hadn't asked any questions once he'd discovered her. Actually, he had been rather friendly about everything…

…_if not ­_overly_ friendly…_No, a voice pointed out dryly in her head. That'd be the crew men. Carrie shuddered involuntarily at that thought—overly friendly in_deed_.

After the introductions had been made, the Captain had led her down an old corridor, where he'd shown her where she could reside until they reached ashore.

That was how she ended up in this tiny, musty cabin.

Carrie sighed and pushed herself back to her feet. The ship lurched again, but this time she was ready. As the ship swayed, Carrie let herself be rocked on to her bed.

The bed creaked underneath her as her weight fell on it. Shuddering, Carrie restrained any thoughts of the whole _ship _creaking and cracking. _It wouldn't be surprising if it did. _The damned thing was so ancient-looking it was as though it could fall apart at any moment.

Trying desperately to avoid any sort of thought along that trail, she shifted herself around on her bed and buried her face in the pillow. Muffled by the pillow, Carrie let out a moan as her stomach twisted in nauseating knots.

Breathing in heavily, she managed to still herself into a semi-peaceful state. She had just drifted off into sleep when the ship began to sway in a rhythmic motion…

* * *

The rain was drizzling down lightly by now. It filled the atmosphere with the smell of light dew and fresh moisture. A light mist hung in the air, and cool night air wove in and around it. It had already darkened, but this was expected—during these dire days till Rebirth, darkness would override the light.

But a faint light shone in over a trail in the Winde Village of the West Guard though. The flames of a torch burned dully, fighting the rain. It was held by a member in a small quartet as they traipsed through their way to the base camp for the village.

As his boots padded across the village dirt (though now it had achieved a mud-like quality) road in an irritated pattern, Cornell couldn't help but glare at the massive amount of footprints that streaked the trail to the Village Square. _No doubt from Carrie's trial…_that had almost been a burning. The girl almost got herself _killed_, and it was thanks to Sir Samuel.

_The bastard…he's had it in for that girl since day one…_A horrible feeling of guilt over took Cornell. _No he hasn't…you know that…_Cornell furrowed his brow, attempting to clear his mind of that train of thoughts. _I'm…I'm so sorry Carrie._

He wasn't there during the attack on the Orphanage; wasn't there when she was kidnapped; wasn't there fast enough to stop the trial…

…and now, she was missing, and she could be _dead_, and he had no idea who was to blame aside from himself.

It was quite possible she ran off on her own—Hell, if _he'd_ just been through what she had, he might've run for it as well—but there was just as much the possibility she was taken away by force.

_Damn…why didn't she stay inside? _Why did the girl always have to be on the move, always trying to do something, whether need be or not?

_She's more like Henry then she thinks._

Frustrated thoughts circling his mind, Cornell and his small group of knights—Gabriel among them—hurried back to the encampment. In times of crisis like these, the Winde Village would be expecting their Captain there for them. And then there was the matter of Sir Samuel and his abandonment…it had been _his_ job to be there at the Orphanage that afternoon…

_You should have made sure he was there…the Village is counting on you…_

…_but how am I supposed to be there for them if I let my own Orphanage down?_

_Stop thinking like that. _Cornell grimaced; arguments in the head weren't a good sign. He had to at least keep himself together.

Up ahead, Cornell could make out the Village Square. For a moment, Cornell had an urge to run and just burn the whole Square down because of the horrible thoughts attached to it. _But they didn't burn her…_

…_they would have…_he countered to himself.

Cornell shook his head, freeing himself from his thoughts. Behind him, he felt Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he raised his eyebrows at the lad.

"Keep yourself together sir," Gabriel whispered softly. Cornell gave a dry nod and turned back to face the front, expression focused. Though he was keeping a steady front, he couldn't stop his mind from reeling.

As they hurried past the Village Square, Cornell found himself coming to an abrupt halt.

"Well if it isn't the _Cap_tain," a voice drawled, contempt oozing off of every word.

Cornell felt a rush of hate at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice.

Clayton.

Rooting himself to the spot, Cornell attempted to rein in his boiling rage.

Regardless, the sheer anger was flooding through Cornell's veins at the sight of Sir Samuel—this was the man who was responsible for Carrie's trial, for the successful attack on the Orphanage by the Corpses, for…an ancient instinct was pounding in Cornell's skull…_I swear you'll pay for this…_

Cornell would've acted on the instinct too, but restrained himself; Sir Samuel seemed to have a whole mob of people behind him. Perhaps a dozen or so of the villagers and a few of those knights loyal to Sir Samuel made it up. Anger pent up inside, Cornell shifted his gaze away from the interference in front of him and tried to decide the best course of leaving would be.

One of the villagers from behind Sir Samuel stepped out. Cornell noticed the movement, but did not bother to acknowledge it.

"No offense meant sir," the peasant titled his head respectfully towards Cornell. "But would you happen to know the whereabouts of the accused Witch?" Cornell felt his fury increase tenfold. However courteous as this man was towards Cornell, those words…_Witch_. The way everyone said it…it was a title by itself.

_Humans are like the tides of water that follow a full moon._

Cornell started—it had been a long time since his mother's words had come to mind.

"You fool!" Sir Samuel's rude voice snapped. "You think _he'd_ tell us?" The small crowd glanced at Sir Samuel. The man had moved forwards so that he was standing right in front of Cornell.

Cornell was not going to deal with this now; not in front of all these people. Moving forwards, he attempted to step around Sir Samuel. The other knight, however, refused to get out of Cornell's way. Daggers for eyes, Cornell treated Sir Samuel to a warning look.

The other knight ignored him.

"It's _ob_vious that the man has fallen for one of the Witch's hexes," Sir Samuel remained facing Cornell, his back to the villagers that had formed a small semi-circle around them. His words rang in the air, derisive and declarative. And like bell chimes at the crack of dawn, they grated on Cornell's nerves. Not that he could show it; now with the villagers watching. "Why else would he not have handed her over to be purged of sin by now?" There were many nods of smug agreement; some however, seemed genuinely worried for their Captain's well-being.

Cornell stepped forwards, the long-standing hate rising to its pinnacle and ready to burst.

"You have no right—"

"Unless…" Sir Samuel cut in, ignoring the Captain's attempt to speak.

"Unless you've known all along of her?" Cornell shot the man an incredulous look. _He knows perfectly well…_Sir Samuel.

"If you intend to just stand there and accuse—"

"You have, haven't you?" he claimed, a look of triumph overtaking his angular features. "That makes you just as much as a sinner as _she_ is." He had spat out the last few words. That swept the haughty atmosphere from some the villagers' right out. Perhaps they were willing to bet their Captain had been jinxed…but to accuse him of disobeying the Church?

The Villagers shifted uneasily on their feet.

Jaw set and abhorrence abounding in his very essence, Cornell resisted the urge to strike the man.

"Listen to me," Cornell began, his voice dangerously low and lined with a sharp edge. "Don't speak of matters you know _nothing _of. You continue to presume…you are nothing more than a fool." Sir Samuel's smirk slid off his face and he lowered his voice so they could carry on a private conversation, the villagers rallied up amongst themselves.

"And what place are you in to judge such matters?" Sir Samuel retorted. "I hardly think that—"

"_As your Captain_, I have every place to judge you," Cornell cut in loudly, biting off every word and hurling them at Sir Samuel. "May I remind you that I was given such a position because of the ability to determine the worth of a man—although, it does not take skill to deem the worth of a man such as yourself."

"And I suppose," Sir Samuel mocked, "that you feel such attributes should be accredited to yourself? Do you honestly believe you remain a pure and honorable man?" Cornell did not respond: confusion now mingled with his thoughts. Taking advantage of Cornell's silence, Sir Samuel added,

"Because judging from the way she acted during the trial, I'm willing to bet you're guilty of other sins." Cornell's features settled into stone. His eyes narrowed at his fellow knight, questioning but suspicious.

_If he says what I think he is…_Cornell honestly did not want to hear what the sick man had done. Having been in the army with Sir Samuel during war, Cornell was all too aware of what the man was capable of.

He made a move to get around Sir Samuel, but found the man side-stepping into his way again. Not wanting to instigate a full-blown brawl, Cornell merely glowered at the man. Barely a sound could be heard as he mouthed,

"Move," his voice full of suppressed rage.

Sir Samuel brushed off the comment, intent on finishing what he had started.

"I mean," Sir Samuel threw in an airy, humor-less laugh, "after all these years, I do believe the only reason you kept that pathetic wench around is because she holds some sort of _entertainment_ value to her." The crowd had been fired up; some shouted in agreement, others that Sir Samuel had gone too far. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Sir Samuel whispered sardonically to Cornell,

"The Lord knows _I_ found some."

Cornell felt someone grab a hold of the back of his shirt. Looking down, he was suddenly aware that his hands had clenched into fists, so tight that his fingernails drew little crescent moons of blood from his palm. Shaking the lad off, Cornell restrained himself from tackling Sir Samuel. He raised his stone-grey eyes to Sir Samuel's face, hatred sparking a fire in them.

The implied insult hung thick in the air between them; Sir Samuel's provocative comment dangling above it all.

_The man has absolutely no shame…he must be in his _forties_…_

"Shut. Your. Mouth." Cornell hissed at Sir Samuel. Fighting back the anger and violence was making Cornell's head pound and his blood boil. "I don't know what the hell you did to Carrie while she was here," Cornell motioned to the Village Square, "but if you ever question my intentions again—if you ever arouse the need for me to question _your_ intentions…" Cornell stepped forwards, the threat left unsaid.

"_My _intentions?" Sir Samuel replied condescendingly. "How can we even be sure of _your_ intentions for the _Village_, you pathetic excuse for a human…you're nothing but a filthy dog." His eyes glinted with malice.

Cornell's ears were ringing by now; his very skin crawled with the urge to strike the man right on his sneering face.

"I don't give a damn what you think you know; the _only_ thing that you need to know is your place," Cornell said, in a voice barely above a whisper it was so laden with repulsion. Leaning in, Sir Samuel responded,

"My place, no matter how many titles you hold, will always be above yours. It's just a matter of time till the rest of the village realizes that."

Hostility was painted over with the air as its canvass. Neither man seemed to be willing to erase it.

Realizing that they were both mere inches from strangling each other, Cornell responded with nothing but a patronizing expression—if the man was _threatening_ him…

As he walked forwards, his original three companions trailing behind him, he made sure to brush past Sir Samuel.

Pausing beside the sneering man, Cornell shot the man a cold look of warning,

"Keep yourself in line, man."

Sir Samuel scoffed, a challenge in his eyes.

Cornell inclined his head slightly towards Sir Samuel, and then pushed past the man with the crowd parting to let their Captain through. Not a soul dared move though, for fear of shattering the peaked tension.

* * *

The smell of wet earth surrounded Link and his companions, flooding his mind with memories. He remembered just that…_morning? It doesn't seem like such a short-time ago…_Link shook himself free of his thoughts. This wasn't going as planned. It seemed as though every time he tried to accomplish something, something _else_ got in the way and changed his course. Now, Link was a man used to living a life full of unexpected surprises, but this was just ridiculous.

As he listened for Diener's boots ahead, Link crouched low. Nearby, he heard the soft crinkling of Malus's shoes. Still hunkered down low, Link cocked his head around so he could see behind him.

"Malus?" he called softly into the darkness. Even his piercing blue-eyes found it hard to distinguish the living from the dead in this unholy place.

"I'm right here." The soft voice startled Link so badly he toppled over. The words had been whispered right by his ear, the breath tickling him.

"Malus…how…?" Shaking the fright out of him, Link pushed himself off the ground. _Ugh…_falling on the wet earth had soaked his leggings. As he stood up, he felt dirt slide off his legs, leaving dirty tracks in their wake.

"Goddess-dammit!" Link cursed, anger and frustration having long since reached its boiling point. Of course, that did not mean the kettle was yet off the stove.

As he brushed off his leggings, he turned to find young Malus staring at him.

Not understanding the cause for such a curious expression, Link demanded,

"_What_?" with what was probably more force than necessary. Though momentarily startled, Malus managed to whisper,

"What's a _Goddess_?"

Link frowned. How could this boy _not_ know? Stepping forwards, he walked ahead of Malus, just making out the Diener's torch, glowing dimly against the swallowing darkness.

"The _God_desses," Link repeated emphatically. "There are _three_. Din—the Goddess of Power, Nayru—the Goddess of Love, and—" Link was cut off by a vigorous shake of the head from Malus.

"_No_," Malus opposed. "There is only _one_ deity, and it's a _God_—not a Goddess!" Though his voice had risen considerably—Link turned his head to glance at the boy. Seeing the frustrated expression on the boy's face, Link was sure rage was not the cause.

From behind him, Link could hear Malus's pattering footsteps against the ground. The steps were quick and light as Malus trailed behind Link and Diener.

"No, Malus…" Link paused, unsure of how to explain himself to the young boy. Turning to look at Malus over his shoulder, Link continued, "it's just that I learned different, that's all." _I can leave it at that…_this wasn't the first time Link had encountered different beliefs.

"But if…" Whatever Malus's question had been, he left it unsaid and hanging in the air between them. Instead, the boy dropped his gaze to the ground below, and allowed his mind to wander.

Caught in muses himself, Link didn't expect the young boy to speak up so soon.

"So then…where _are_ you from?" Malus asked quietly.

"Me?" Link inquired. "Well…I was born in a land called Hyrule—though I've grown close to the kingdom of Termina." Malus frowned.

"There's no such place…" he began. "I've never heard of it, and the monks never taught that in class."

"Yes, well…" Judging from what everyone was saying, Link wasn't sure himself if Hyrule, Termina or any other kingdom he _thought_ he knew existed.

"So what's it like where you come from?" Malus piped up, voice suddenly more enthusiastic. "What language do you speak? Who's your king? What kind of things do you trade—"

"Malus!" Link cut in. Motioning for the boy to follow, Link picked up his pace. The lantern in front of them seemed to be shrinking farther and farther into the distance, though Malus and Link continued to follow it at a steady rate.

Link raised a branch that had swung itself in their way, allowing Malus to go under first.

"Well," Link began, calming himself, "our ruler was King Daphnes…" Link racked his head, trying to remember the full title for His Majesty. _Wish I had paid better attention during the dubbing day…_

Malus spared him the trouble of thinking too hard.

"King _Daphnes_?" he repeated, flabbergasted. "I've never heard of a King _Daphnes_ before…"

"Er—well…yes," Link cut in, not wanting to stray into a conversation revolving around royalty. "Anyway…I'm not really sure what we export…" Link cursed himself. _Wonderful job of changing the topic Link._

"Well, is your kingdom prosperous?" Malus asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Link replied confidently. _Well, it was last time I checked…_ "Almost everyone there makes more than enough rupees to get by—"

"Rupees?" Malus interjected. "What on earth are _rupees_?"

"You know!" Link exclaimed, starting to feel exasperated. Quickening his pace a bit, he allowed his feet to follow the dot of light before them. "_Ru_pees. Our currency…" Link shook his head, not knowing how to explain what he'd known forever.

"What do they look like?" Malus asked. Sighing, Link reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a handful of the glittering gems. He swore he heard Malus squeal with delight.

"Wow!" Malus enthused. "Those are _pretty_!" The sparkling light off the rupees shone on the lad's midnight blue eyes. "We don't have money like _that_…" As a thought struck the boy, Link watched as Malus reached into one of his own coat pockets.

"This," Malus continued, "is what we use."

In his palm was a small, spilled purse of gold pieces, all lustrous and shining, piled atop of one another. Other metals were present as well, being copper and silver.

Link frowned; if this was what they used, then his money would be of no use.

Malus solved that problem though.

"Hey!" Malus offered. "Can we trade?" Link quirked an eyebrow at the boy.

"Uhh…" But before he could finish, Malus had already shoved the purse into Link's hands—contents included—and now had his hands outstretched.

Flustered, but grateful for the offer, Link reached back into his pouch to pull out at least some red rupees. Surely _gold_ pieces were worth more then these tiny jewels.

"What are you doing?" Malus demanded, causing Link to stop searching. Lifting his head up, Link responded,

"Er—I'm getting rupees for you…"

"No! Those ones are fine!" Link looked at the ones he had pulled out. A few greens, mainly blues though. Pulling his hand out of his pouch, Link produced a bright, yellow rupee.

He watched Malus's expression darken at it.

"That's ugly," the boy stated simply. "I like the blues."

"Er…if you say so…" Stretching his arm, Link turned over his hand and dumped its contents into the boy's palm.

"But you know…" Link said, studying the boy carefully. "The yellow is worth more where I come from…" Malus simply shrugged.

"Well, we're not in Hiland—"

"Hy_rule_," Link corrected.

"Exactly," Malus nodded. "Well, we're not there, so what do I care what their worth in your standards? I'm not actually going to use them as money…"

Link shrugged in response. If the boy wanted blue rupees, he could have blue rupees. _Well, at least I have gold to use now…_

"What are you waiting for?" a voice hissed into Link's ear. Whipping around, Link came face-to-face with Diener.

"Stop—" Link wanted to say _stop doing that_, but realized that Diener had no idea how Link felt. _No matter how alert I remain, always someone is right there to intrude upon my vigilance._

_Or maybe I'm just losing my touch…_

Link cursed, pushing that thought away. It was this damned land—everywhere Link looked, the world seemed sucked into the downward spiral. All of this was dragging Link's head down with it. _You're not making anything better by thinking like this…_

_No, but it is satisfying._

Link was two twitches from a slap on the forehead. _Stop fighting._ Why in Hyrule should he have to tell that to himself?

Shaking the thoughts off, Link nodded mutely at the Diener, than picked up his pace.

"How much longer till we arrive?" Malus's soft voice tickled the air around the spread out trio. Behind him, Link could here the faint tinkling of rupees being stuffed into a pocket. Link mirrored the action, placing the pieces of metal back into the purse before attaching it to his belt.

This time raising his pace to match that of the Diener's, Link was careful to stay close behind. Grabbing the boy's arm from behind him, Link forced Malus to keep in front of him. _Don't need him creeping up out of no where…_

Not sure where that thought had come from, Link proficiently managed to block off his mind all together.

"Just get to the docks," Link muttered resolutely to himself. "Get to the docks." It became his maxim, the only thought he would allow himself to concentrate on.

_That is…if Diener is even leading us right…_

_Arggh! Stop it!_

_Just get to the docks. Get to the docks. Get to the docks…_

* * *

_A slight wind lifted from the westward corner of the forest. As it rose, the blades of grass came to life with it, throwing off their blanket of morning dew. The wind floated by, stirring everything it touched. Wild flowers bristled in agitation, lush leaves swayed gently and moisture hung lightly in the air. _

_Carrie watched it all, but she couldn't feel it._

_Not a hair swept out of place, not a crinkle in her clothes formed. _

And_, she noticed,_ the grass doesn't even seem to bother with me._ It was true—not a blade bent as her booted feet traipsed over them._

_Still though, Carrie felt herself wrapping her arms around her small body. There was no cold biting her body, but Carrie could sense it._

_Stepping around the withered branches of trees—though this was more force of habit than anything else, she wove her way through the beautiful labyrinth. Eventually Carrie saw a small clearing come in to view._

_Slowing her pace, Carrie could make out a vast, glittering fountain. It stood in the center, crystal water pouring out from the center statue. The statue itself was a strange one in itself—it looked like three triangles attached, with a triangular space in the center. The light spilled across the statue, leaving only one piece in the shadows. _

_But it was what was in front of the statue that caught Carrie's attention. _

_A young woman, perhaps only a few years older than Carrie herself, sat on the rim of the basin. She was easily the fairest maiden Carrie had ever met. _

_Her face was a work of porcelain, painted delicately with light colours to accent her feminine features. Around her body was a soft pink dress, curtaining around her legs and cutting off as sleeveless. The collar was embroidered in gold trinkets, with plates coming onto her shoulders. On her arms, pure white gloves ran all the way up past her elbows and stayed there, hanging on snuggly._

_Volumes of wavy, lustrous blonde hair, shimmering in the sunlight framed her head. The bangs were pulled back and tied at the back of her head, giving free reign to the golden circlet she wore._

_In the woman's slender hands was an elegant harp, being plucked gracefully. The soft notes tinkled gently in the air, leaving the atmosphere warm and open. As she played, the young lady's eyes remained closed and her breathing stayed even._

_Carrie took a few steps closer, studying the woman. Because the woman was not looking around her, she did not stir as Carrie approached. _

_Somehow, this woman seemed more…_defined_ than Carrie. While Carrie seemed a phantom in this world, the young woman before her seemed perfectly in tune with it._

What on earth is she doing? _Lowering her arms from around her, Carrie took a few steps more. Already feeling strange in this world, Carrie clenched her hands into fists._

_Without even planning on it, she could begin to feel power coursing through her veins, rushing to her fingertips. Her hands had begun to glow—_

_The woman's eyes fluttered open, revealing calm waters for eyes. _

_Startled, Carrie backed up, losing all energy she had gathered. _

"_I'm sor—I…" Stumbling backwards, Carrie couldn't string together words. The woman's face remained emotionless, though her eyes seemed alive with a fire. Whether friendly or calculating, it was impossible to tell. _

_As she backed away, Carrie felt her foot collide with something hard on the ground. _

"_Dammit!" The curse had escaped her lips faster than she could bite down. Moaning, she gripped her head in her hands and allowed it to sag to the ground._

_Stars were blinking in front of her brown-blue eyes, dancing and laughing at her._

"_Go away," she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She had just made an utter fool of herself in front of a very regal young woman, now she was lying on the ground with a massive headache._

Wait…why can I feel the pain, but the grass isn't even _tickling_ me?

_The thought was far to complex; just thinking about it was making Carrie's head pound even harder. _Damn…

_The noises around her seemed to have gone through a major crescendo; everything had intensified tenfold. Just as she threw her hands to cover her throbbing eardrums, Carrie sensed someone nearing her._

"_Carrie!" A breathless voice yell-whispered._

_Carrie groaned, but lowered her hands. Blinking down at her was the pretty, flushed face of Beth._

"_Beth!" Excitement over-taking her, Carrie struggled to reach her feet. Beth was here. Sickly, ill Beth who had been taken captive…_

"_Beth!" Carrie cried again, rolling over and pushing her self onto all fours. She wasn't sure, but for a minute she was thought she saw her hand sink through the ground…_

"_Oh my goodness—Carrie, I came back and…" crouching down, Beth met Carrie at eye level, seeing as to how Carrie couldn't get up off the ground. "You weren't there! Henry said you were missing! Carrie…what's wrong with you?" _

_Carrie shook her head, trying to focus her attention on her friend, instead oft on why she couldn't lift herself off the ground. _

"_Beth…I know…did you hear about the children?" Carrie compromised. No matter how she tried, she could find any support to rise. It was like floating—though she was free to move nothing existed to help her. Turning her head towards Beth, she gave her childhood friend a questioning look. _

"_Beth…I don't understand…"Carrie didn't finish—there was no need to. A grimace on her face, Beth stood up._

"_Yes, I know about the children…"she began, her voice drifting off. "And I heard that you ran out, set on retrieving them." Carrie flipped herself over so she was sitting on her bottom._

"_So…" Carrie was getting the impression that Beth was trying to take this conversation somewhere…she just wasn't sure where._

"_I just wanted to say thank you Carrie," Beth offered sincerely. Carrie opened her mouth to respond, but shut it again when she saw Beth continue, "And good luck—this is going to be harder than you think…and I want to help…"_

_Carrie shook her head vigorously, now understanding._

"_There's no need to apologize Beth!" she exclaimed, grabbing her old friend's hand. _How come I can do that?_ "It's not your fault—"_

"_But…" Beth kneeled over to talk to Carrie. "I should've been there to help watch the children, if not fight…"_

_Carrie sighed, unable to comfort her friend. _

"_Look—you just stay and get better, okay?" Carrie implored. It was Beth's turn to shake her head._

"_But I want to help! The children are my responsibility too!" Carrie frowned. She'd never thought the day would come when she was trying to talk reason to someone else._

"_That's a wonderful sentiment Beth," Carrie began, her voice stern. "But how will you help? I'm already on a ship to the Forest of Silence—I don't even know _how_ I got to the dock—and you're all the way back at the Orphanage…" Beth jumped up, a brilliant fire sparked in her jade eyes. _

"_That's just it!" she enthused eagerly, jumping at her chance. "I know a way to help—even from the Orphanage!"_

"_Er…okay…" Carrie furrowed her brow, confused._

_Standing up, Beth began to pace circles around her friend. Carrie watched her, head rolling on her neck as she did. Memories stirring in her mind, Carrie couldn't help but smile at her friend's enthusiasm._

"_Well, you see—"_

_Whatever Beth had been about to say, she cut herself short. A worried expression on her face, her attention was directed to Carrie. Shuddering, Carrie felt the disturbance as well. For a brief moment, Carrie felt sure she was going to sink through the floor. Throwing her hands out on either side of her, Carrie steadied herself._

"_Carrie…" Beth was at a loss for words, the intent expression on her face. Carrie didn't know how to respond—she was too afraid to even speak._

_Several seconds passed before Carrie dared to look up. _It was just in passing…

_Then it happened again._

_A gut-wrenching feeling, straight from the naval. Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, her entire being trembled. Again the ground felt as though the floor was opening up. _What's going on…?

"_Carrie!" Beth's confident voice flew at Carrie—a hook for her to grab a hold of. "Carrie—you're about to leave—"_

"_But I don't _want_ to leave—"_

"_You don't have a choice! Someone's forcing you to wake up!" _

_Utterly confused now, Carrie threw a concerned expression at her friend._

"Wake up?" _Carrie exclaimed, starting to feel panicky._

"_Yes—" Carrie felt herself sinking into the whole in the ground, slowly. At first._

_Rapidly, more and more rapidly she was sinking. Now she was neck deep, and fighting._

"_Carrie!" Beth cried, realizing the dilemma. "Look for me in your dreams! I'll be there!"_

_Perplexed by her friend's words, and too busy struggling to stay atop of the ground, Carrie wasn't able to let out a good-bye before the ground consumed her whole…

* * *

_

A/N: There ya go! Finally…sorry if there were a lot of editing mistakes in this chapter…I'm so tired right now…


	7. The Whip of a Tail

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**A/N: **Remember; if you got questions make sure to leave a way for me to contact you! 'Kay? 'Kay!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own ANYTHING, okay? Well, unless you count the random orphans and Carrie's friends…

PRONUNCIATION KEY: Laurentia (lore-EN-sha)

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: The Whip of a Tail**_

_**

* * *

**_

****

**_D_****_AY ONE: NIGHT_**

Heart pounding faster than at the burning, Carrie awoke with a start. Someone was in the cabin, and their presence was far too close to Carrie's for comfort.

"Who—" A hand clamped tightly over her mouth, shrouding her voice.

Panic seized Carrie, and in a fit she swung out her fist. The person removed their hand with a yelp, startled at her violent reaction. Memories of the Village Square instantly filled her head, flooding over one another and crushing her beneath their weight.

Different memories rushed in afterwards…memories of the woods…

Realizing her actions, Carrie threw off the off-white covers and rolled out of her bed. As she did, the person was knocked out of the way—yet still not a word was uttered.

"Who the…" Carrie bit back the fear and anger that had begun to creep in. Steadying herself with a deep sigh, she continued. "Who—who are you?"

Fearing the answer, Carrie begun to back away. She would've run from the cabin by now, but the stranger was in the way. Fighting was an option too—but her quarters were so tiny she wouldn't have been surprised if she set the cabin on fire with her orbs.

"Shhhh Miss," a raspy voice hissed: though not unkindly. "The Captain says you're to come below deck—now."

All thoughts of the dream were chased out of her mind, replaced by thoughts regarding the Captain in their first meeting.

"Ex_cuse_-me? He's _demanding_ my presence?" The implement was left hanging, Carrie not daring to delve any deeper into the thought. _I'll jump ship before heading to the _Captain's _quarters…_The crewmen—for Carrie realized that by now—gave a wistful smile at her reaction.

"Nay Miss, not in that sense." Because of the little moonlight from her tiny window, Carrie swore the expression on his face said it very well could've been. "We're in danger—the Captain wants to make sure you make it out alive."

"_Danger?_" Carrie repeated, dumbstruck. _Oh damn…why on earth am I in danger _again

"What kind of bloody _danger_ are we in?" she snapped, spite oozing off every word. With a huff, Carrie stood up and brushed off her skirt. She hadn't even changed before falling asleep.

"Miss—" The crewman hesitated here, "that's not of importance. Just come quickly!" Without another word, he swiveled around and made his way to the door. Not having anything to change into, nor any possessions, Carrie was quick to follow suit. She did, however, pause to grab Cornell's cloak.

* * *

****

**_DAY ONE: NIGHT_**

Stark, ragged breath rattled in Felix's lungs, threatening to choke him. How ironic, that the very sustenance of his life seemed capable of ending it. _Don't think that…_he cursed himself mentally. Easier said than done—it was hard not to focus on the aches and pains that weariness had plagued upon him.

All of this was from the stupid woods around him. After Carrie had been taken—_no,_ Felix corrected himself, _she ran on her own, not taken—_Henry, Ada and surprisingly Cornell had all blown a fit. Cornell's was probably the worst—it had been more disappointment and desperation, whereas Ada and Henry had outright yelled at him. _It wasn't _my_ fault though…it _wasn't…_dammit! How dare they take my friend! _Of course, if Carrie ever found out that he had been watching over her, Felix could guarantee that he would never live to do so again.

And Traian…his reaction had been similar to Cornell's. But when Tri heard the news, he hadn't blamed Felix. Or if he did, he sure didn't show it outwardly.

A loud snapping from beneath his feet brought Felix out of his reverie. Looking down, he cursed the twig that had disrupted him—he was already sore at the world, and this was just ridiculous.

Henry had absolutely blown a casket at Felix, coming close to smacking the boy senseless. Shaking his head, Felix remembered laughing at Henry when he had made the threat. _That sure wasn't smart…_his head still throbbed from the gauntlet.

Of course, Felix could understand their frustration—he himself was worried. None of them had any idea where to go; Cornell seemed to have had an inkling though. Pity he had been called away by the Church before he could share any ideas with the rest of them. _Don't know why all the lads want to be knights…I sure wouldn't._ But then, Felix had no idea as to what his future would bring, so he just went with the flow. His older sister—Laurentia, now married and with two children—often chastised him about that. _You've no direction in life, _Laura would say. _You can't stay working at the Orphanage forever…you ought to find yourself a niche in this world before it's too late. Mother and Father—and Sophitia—would have wanted that…_and then the guilt trip would begin. Always.

_I didn't even _know_ Sophitia…_instantly reproachful thoughts clambered into his head. A frown creased his face as he thought of his older, deceased sister. His skull was not as thick as Laura seemed to think.

_It's not _my _fault…_now he wasn't sure who he was talking about.

Either way, he was here to help a friend. More than one, if he could. That was how Felix ended up trampling through the woods surrounding Winde Village. He was sure there had to be _some_ clue as to where the children were—even where Beth or Carrie had gone. Tri had come too, despite the objections from Ada. That lad had a will of steel and could be stubborn as hell if he felt like it.

Lifting a branch out his way, Felix carefully stepped over a fallen log. Felix had suggested to Tri awhile back that they separate ways; they would cover more ground that way. Tri hadn't been ecstatic about the idea, but eventually, he agreed; they were running out of time. Letting his friends out of his sight had always been hard for Tri, and with Tass, his younger brother, gone, the young man was bound to be even more protective than usual.

Looking down, Felix realized that he had come upon a narrow hill, descending downwards at a rather steep rate. It looked almost as though it could have once had a river flowing threw it, what with the mud track and washed stones about.

Careful as he could, Felix gripped the trees on either side of the declining trail and allowed himself to sidle downwards. There were many mounds and crevices for him to place his feet in as holds; only there were piles of sopping leaves atop of each one. With a slight smile creasing his face, Felix thought of his friends' reactions if they ever found out he was doing something so foolish. Indeed, Felix realized perfectly well that what he was doing as foolish, dangerous, and any other word that had become associated with his name. _Never stopped me before…_

Boots slipping only slightly, Felix managed to the bottom of the hill with reasonable grace. Now back on straight ground, Felix continued onwards. Here though, the branches of the trees swung low; so low that Felix was stooping the entire time. He wasn't sure _why_ exactly he had followed this particular path—though he had spent many days as a child exploring these woods with Carrie, Tri, and Beth, he had never been here before.

Leaves squelched beneath him, and his back was beginning to ache even worse. They had been searching for a good few hours now, and had uncovered nothing. Neither Tri nor Felix was willing to give up hope though, nor admit that their search was rather fruitless. _Someone's _got_ to be around here somewhere…_

That was when he heard it.

A soft, yet heavy breathing.

Its gentle nature disrupted the dead atmosphere of the woods, and remained to warm the air. It was the strangest thing Felix had ever heard—ever _felt_—in the longest time. Creeping forwards, Felix was intent on finding the source.

It was coming from just yonder west, though Felix didn't see how that as possible. The thicket of trees around him blocked off all view aside from the path before him, and they certainly seemed impenetrable. The sound was growing fainter however, and the breaths were fewer and farther between.

Not knowing how to reach the source, Felix abandoned all forms of reasons and plunged headfirst threw the thicket.

Intense pain ripped at his skin, as the branches, thorns and stubs seared at his skin.

With a little bit of struggle, Felix fought his way through the underbrush and fell through. Landing hard on his back, Felix realized that he had fallen into a small clearing.

The clearing itself was a contradiction to the forest around it—the ground was soft, the trees seemed more lush and even the air seemed more alive.

As he rolled to his feet, Felix looked around the tiny clearing. The source of the breathing had to be nearby—he was sure of it.

As he reached his feet, he shook himself off lightly, the muscles sore and his skin torn.

Shaking off the feeling, Felix quickly swept his gaze over the small clearing. His eyes came to rest on one dainty figure lying against one of the larger trees.

Racing forwards, Felix shook his ash-blond bangs from his eyes. _Oh God, if that really is—_

"Beth!" Felix skidded down to his knees, sliding right next to the young woman. Leaning over, he shook his friend vigorously in attempt to wake her.

It was indeed Beth, Felix could be sure of that. Her long blonde hair hung damp and lanky around her pale but flushed face. Her dark blue dress was encrusted with dirt and grime, torn near the hem. Obviously she had run some ways; no demon would deposit the girl so comfortably against the bark of a tree strong enough to support her.

Eyelids fluttering open, Beth stirred.

"Fe…Felix?" Felix nodded his head quickly.

"Are you all right?" he asked her intently, eyebrows wrought in concern. His childhood friend nodded her head slightly, and then attempted to push herself to her feet. Failing to do so, she collapsed, leaning against the tree again.

Jolting forwards, Felix just missed catching her. Frustrated at the failed attempt, he hunkered down to help her instead.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Beth shook her head again, but also answered with,

"Not anything serious. I—I'll be okay." Felix didn't respond with words, but his eyes settled into an incredulous expression. Leaning over, Felix offered her his hand, though his mouth remained set in a solid frown.

"I'm serious Beth—are you all right?" Beth looked up at him and grimaced, no response.

Grabbing a hold, Beth heaved herself to her feet. For a moment she said nothing as she attempted to steady herself, leaning against Felix's sturdy arm as support. Felix watched her screw her eyes up tight and saw her pale face go paler still. _Chalk-white; God…she looks like the dead. _

"Felix…is—is everyone all right back home?" Felix didn't have to ask who she meant in particular.

"Well…" Felix chewed on his tongue, reluctant to speak. Instead, he supported Beth as they moved towards the thicket. Toying with how to word it, he began,

"Um, Carrie—well, she came back all right; Cornell saved her." He heard Beth breathe in a sigh of relief. Wincing, Felix was about to continue tentatively when Beth suddenly questioned in disbelief,

"How are we going to get through _that_?" Felix turned his attention to the dense thicket, glad for the change of topic. He understood perfectly well what she meant; the trees were clumped together, with bushes shrouding the bottom.

"I just broke through before," Felix said with a shrug. Beth shot him an incredulous look—Carrie and Beth seemed to give that exact same look, maybe they had practiced it together—before shaking her head at him, a slight smile on her face.

"Felix," she offered reproachfully. "That's great for you—but how exactly am I supposed to get through in this shape?" As if to expand upon her point, she actually sagged over and nearly collapsed onto the ground before her. Because she was on her knees, for the first time Felix could see the top of her head.

"Beth!" he exclaimed loudly, shocked at what he saw.

Blood matted her hair, and crusted over to form dark brown remnants almost woven into her hair. What the wound itself looked like, Felix couldn't tell. From the way the blood had clotted though, it seemed as though it was a long scratch or welt.

Lifting her head up, Beth met his eyes, half-embarrassed, half-upset.

"You said you weren't hurt!" he burst out, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice.

"No," she responded meekly, eyes drifting to the ground as she wrapped her arms around her sides. "I said that is wasn't serious."

It was Felix's turn to shoot her an incredulous look.

He would have reprimanded her too—something he was not used to doing—if it hadn't been the sudden slashing sound coming from beyond the thicket.

Whipping around, Felix stepped in front of Beth.

"Who's there?" he demanded. Behind him, he could hear Beth holding her breath. _Come out then, _Felix willed, heart thumping against his chest.

_Crack_.

"Whoever—"

"Felix!" a relieved cry cut him off. As Felix watch the branches fall, he saw Traian emerge from behind the bushes.

"How did you…" Tri wasn't listening though; he was too busy staring in amazement at Beth.

"You found her!" he pointed out unnecessarily. Not bothering to repress it, Felix let his eyes roll.

"Obviously," he muttered under his breath. Tri shot forwards and grabbed Beth by the shoulders.

"Are you okay?" she nodded her head dimly, still watching the ground below her. Her breathing had steadied a bit, but she was shaking and her skin remained pale as ever.

Felix sighed and stepped forward himself, kneeling down with Tri and Beth.

"No, you're not," Felix responded to Beth, with more aggression than perhaps necessary. Turning his attention to Tri, he said,

"She's tired, hurt and there's a bad wound on her head." After that, Felix let Tri decide what to do. He could report the facts—let Tri worry about what to do next. _He's a year older anyways…_

"All right…" Tri began slowly. "Okay. If she's as bad off as you say, then we bring her straight back to the Orphanage."

"What about the other children?" Felix asked, more from curiosity than opposition. Tri shook his head.

"We'll come back for them. But now that we have one person, we may as well save what we can. Besides; it's getting dark out, and we haven't the time to keep searching _and_ return Beth safely." Felix nodded—he certainly wasn't going to bother countering—and helped Beth to her feet again.

Beth's head had snapped up—she had shook it gently afterwards, to ease out the pain—when Tri had mentioned the children.

"But…" she began as she steadied herself, attempting to push her friends away so she could stand on her own. "You can't just let the demons have free run for a night! In _one_ night, they could cross Foggy Lake, in _one_ night they could swallow their victims whole, in _just one night…_" Panic had crept into her voice, and Tri put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Hey…c'mon Beth. You're in no shape—"

"But I am!" she insisted, cutting him off. Pushing him away, she attempted to stand alone.

Staggering sideways, she failed miserably. Throwing a desperate look to the two young men before her, she implored,

"But we _can't_ just leave them for my sake! Please! I can make it through some hiking in the woods!" Felix and Tri exchanged a swift but significant glance.

"Beth…" Shaking his head, Tri, leaned over to help Beth again.

"Tri! _You're_ still hunting! And you aren't fully healed!" She must have been referring to the bandages encircling his forearm and above his eye.

With a grunt, Tri gently forced her forward, towards the hole he'd made in the thicket. Stepping through first, so as to hold the remaining branches out of the way, Felix countered,

"Yeah, but at least Tri is all patched up. You're wounds are open and just begging for infection." Beth fell silent, but Felix couldn't help but smirk slightly. _At least Beth sees reason, not like Carrie—_with a jolt, Felix couldn't help but glance guiltily at Beth, who was now walking through the hole, assisted by Tri.

_It's better she doesn't know yet…she wouldn't be able to handle the news…_

Still, no matter what Felix told himself, he could not shake the lingering feeling of guilt that seemed to filthy the corner of his conscience.

* * *

****

**_DAY ONE: NIGHT_**

The dank stench of soggy wood surrounded Carrie, its spicy yet stale scent striking her nose. Her footsteps pounded against the wet floors, sending water splashing all about her with each step. _Damn ship…can't even protect against leaks from above…_

She was making her way to above deck, as her guide had instructed. Where he had gone, she couldn't be sure.

Skidding to a halt—and sending a wave of water everywhere—she nearly tripped onto the staircase. Resting her hands on the railing beside her, Carrie forced herself up and swinging the trap door open.

Using her arms as support, Carrie hoisted herself out of the lower decks. Jumping up from her spot, Carrie swiveled around, searching for someone.

There was nothing.

A light mist hung about the air, and it seemed to cling to the young woman. It stench of it was suffocating—it made Carrie's lungs hurt and her eyes water. Not a soul could be seen on the ship, not a breath could be heard. Looking around, Carrie at least expected someone to be manning the sails; or the directing the overgrown boat; or _some_thing. _Where has everyone gone? What sort of emergency is _this

A scowl working its way to her features, Carrie stormed towards the railway overlooking Foggy Lake. Upon reaching her destination, Carrie gripped the cold metal bar in her fist. The icy rod chilled her to the bone, biting into her pale flesh and painting it red from the inside.

Snatching away, Carrie began to rub her hands together vigorously, turning around as she did do. Her hands trailed up to her forearms, massaging the skin just as strongly.

Stepping forwards, Carrie made her way around the small deck in tentative steps. She didn't like this place, and she wanted to get off as soon as possible.

_Get off…_Her eyes snapped up, over the railing on the other side.

There. She could just make it out.

In the distance, shrouded in fog, was the outline of an island.

Not just any island though—Carrie knew perfectly well what resided on such an isle. _Though…I don't know whether that's good or bad…_

The Forest of Silence. Castlevania…the Prince of Darkness.

Oddly, Carrie felt no shudder run through her body. Her eyes remained transfixed on the shadow of a land mass, terrified by the truth but too fascinated to look away.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she was utterly unprepared for the break-neck lurch the ship went through.

Carrie felt her feet slip out from under her, and she half skidded, half rolled across the deck. Her head met the wooden planks in furious torrent, and her stomach jumped a mile high.

"Dammit!" She screamed aloud. Staggering to her feet, she tried to steady herself against the roaring tyrants of the sea.

Holding out her hands, she grabbed a hold of the closest support.

Her palm brushed against a cool, smooth surface.

Gripping the knob, Carrie used it to pull herself against the wall. As she leaned against the hard wood, Carrie attempted to steady her breathing. _Oh God…a storm…this can't get any worse…_

Abruptly, Carrie felt someone bang against the wall behind her. _Wait…how can someone be on the other side…?_

With a jolt, Carrie snapped her hand away from the doorknob. Not a good idea—within seconds she was hurled forwards, and it wasn't from a lurch of the boat.

Flipping over so she was on her back, Carrie pushed herself to be supported by her arms.

There, standing in front of her, was the Captain.

"Miss!" he roared over the crashing waves of the ocean around them. "What would ye be doin' out here? Come now!"

Throwing a hand atop his hat, the Captain raced forwards. Stopping beside Carrie, he grabbed a hold of her forearm and dragged her to her feet.

"Miss Fernandez! There be danger approaching, and ye best be stowed away below deck!"

Without another word, the Captain threw her past the doorway and shut the door on her. _Why didn't he come too…? _Panic was over-taking Carrie, so forcefully that she couldn't seem to find her voice.

Turning around, she took in her surroundings. She stood in a narrow cabin, mould and dust prominent in the air. It didn't seem to lead anywhere—only a blood red, square mat furnished the room on the other end.

Wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, Carrie took a few tentative steps forward. The air didn't seem to stir at all with her presence—rather, it felt hostile.

Running her tongue of her dry lips, Carrie took a few more steps. The ancient floorboards creaked as she stepped on them, and dust rose and fell just as frequently as the water in her quarters had.

Now almost on the other side, Carrie carefully stopped tight beside the rug. Only…it somehow seemed…weaker? More flimsy, perhaps?

A sudden noise interrupted the deathly quiet of the cabin, the sound of ragged breath and rushed movements.

Carrie felt her insides freeze up.

_Oh damn oh damn oh damn…_

A paralysis overtaking her, Carrie refused to turn around. _If I don't see it…it's not there…_

Childish perhaps, but comforting nonetheless.

A sharp hand reached out and grabbed her elbow, jerking her towards them.

Energy instantly began racing to her arms…her hand…her finger tips…

Allowing herself to be tugged around, Carrie used the momentum to swivel and strike the stranger on the face.

Her glowing fist connected with their face. Their hard, rough, scaly face.

Instantly retracting her hand towards her chest, Carrie tried to stop herself from trembling as she raised her eyes to whatever she'd hit.

What appeared to be an overgrown lizard-man stood there, green skinned, covered in scales and pieces of armor. In its hands it held a shield in one and a short battle-ax in another. Backing away, Carrie started when it snarled at her. _What the hell…_

Unleashing out a high-pitched screech, it lunged for the young woman.

Allowing a scream of her own to escape her lips, Carrie threw herself out of harms way. The lizard-man slid forward on its belly. Noticing the young woman had removed herself from its path; it spun around and prepared to attack again.

Carrie saw it coming this time, and whipped around. _Where did it _come_ from?_

Wanting to get as much as distance between her and the lizard-man, Carrie shot back towards the rug. Not caring where she stepped, she slipped and skidded, landing on the red mat.

And fell right through.

Shock breaking through her wall of fear, Carrie wasn't even aware of what had happened until she'd hit solid ground. Rolling to her feet, head pounding and stars in front of her, Carrie steadied herself. The mat was on the floor at her feet—it had fallen with her. Looking up, she saw a square hole allowing light to spill through. _Trap door indeed…_

She also noticed that lining the wall was a wooden ladder, its rungs thin but sturdy. _Damn…_

Cursing her luck, Carrie shot off in the other direction.

Not that there was far to go—she had arrived in a cabin exactly the same as the one she'd left.

Including, of course, the ladder beneath the little rug.

Racing forwards, she quickly put her foot down on the first rung, gripping the edge intensely. _Oh please…I do _not_ want to get stuck fighting that lizard…_

Step by step, she quickly descended down, and finally, her feet hit solid ground.

Dropping down to her own two feet, Carrie was quick to turn around and keep moving—as to where, she had no clue. _Where the Hell is the crew…_

But after putting only one step forward, Carrie found her eagerness to move on falter.

She had reached the foundation of the ship, and this, unlike the preceding rooms, was vast, and the ceiling seemed filled with endless planks and lanterns that swung down dangerously.

That was hardly what grabbed her attention though.

The room was swarming, every last inch of it, with lizard men. _How did _they_ get in?_

Instantly Carrie began to power up, feeling pure energy rushing towards her hands all over again. Raging blue orbs of light burst from her hands, ready to unleash their wrath on her opponents.

The lizard-men had scattered themselves out as the beams of light smashed through, knocking them senseless; not quite killing them though.

Scared, but not angry, it wasn't long before Carrie felt exhaustion creeping back in. And these beings were far harder to kill than the corpses—her beams had to work harder to get through their armor and tough skin.

By now she had been forced to move into the center of the foundation, and the remaining lizard-men were closing in. Trying not to let her exhaustion show, Carrie continued to summon the energy.

She swore she heard a faint creaking behind her. The thought raced from her mind though, as she leapt sideways, prepared to throw another orb at the lizard-men.

That was, until she was thrown forwards with the sweep of a giant hand, flung all the way to the other side of the foundation.

"Wha—" Her scream was cut short by the abrupt landing on the hard wood. Rising as quickly as possible, Carrie got to her feet, backing away as she did so.

There, on the other side from where she'd come, was an enormous, pinkish, scaly, _rotting_ arm.

Now with her back right up against the wall, Carrie watched in a horrified trance as the hand swung around, groping. It was so large that the arm stretched out enough so it was almost brushing against Carrie. The fingers themselves were the size of logs, and just as thick.

Finding nothing, the over-sized limb withdrew itself from the ship.

And its wake remained a massive, gaping whole.

Water rushed through, gliding through as easily as a river. It hit the ground hard, and ran around the foundation, flooding it effectively.

_Oh damn…_the water level had already reached her knees, and was rising as fast as she ran. Carrie could swim—Cornell had taught her how—but her frail figure would be no match for the waves crashing from the whole.

Then she saw her escape.

A crate was floating nearby, and beside it was a taller crate…

…the water was swarming around her, grabbing at her…

…racing forwards, Carrie leapt onto the box, which was almost drowned in the water itself…

Summoning her strength, Carrie took another jump, this time managing to scramble atop of the larger crate…

…the water was still rising, having gobbled up the last crate just as Carrie left it…

…she had been at a safe height, but the crate was sinking now…

Forcing herself to a wobbly stand—and nearly falling over again—Carrie got herself ready to leap, again. By now she was high enough to reach the planks on the ceiling.

Lunging, Carrie grabbed a hold of the rough wood with her fingertips.

Clambering atop, Carrie felt the sureness of the sturdy plank under her. As she rose to her feet, she chanced a glance downward. The water was rising at a slightly slower rate than before…though that wasn't much of a comfort, considering how fast it had been going before.

Carrie searched around for an escape, and fortunately…_there's light! Thank goodness!_

Careful as she could, Carrie raced over the wide plank towards the opening she saw. It looked like another crack…though she wasn't sure where that one had come from…_I'm not so sure I want to know…_

The remaining lizard men seemed to have all left, escaping through the hole the giant had created. _Where had they come from in the first place…?_

Not wanting her thoughts to get distracted, Carrie focused on making her way to the narrow hole, springing from plank to plank, praying she wouldn't slip.

Finally, just as the water had almost reached half-way up the foundation, Carrie broke through the opening and into the dim light of the outside.

Landing with a hard splash in the water, Carrie struggled to bring herself to the surface. The dark water seemed to want to drag her under, its waves encircling her, crushing her.

Flapping her arms about madly, it was a moment before Carrie remembered everything Cornell taught her. Finally able to make her self float, Carrie began to paddle herself over to the white stone steps that led to the pier.

Her skirt tangled in her legs handicapping them; her hair stuck to her face, blinding her vision. _Come on Carrie…almost there…_

Struggling blindly, finally she felt herself collide with hard stone. Eagerly she climbed atop, pausing once she reached the top. Carrie threw herself backwards, sprawled on her back and soaking in the little sunlight that there was. After climbing the stairs, she would need to cross the narrow bridge that lead to the shoreline…then she'd reach Rinaldo's…and from there, she'd do what she had to in order to find the children. _The Prince isn't getting away with this…_Memories stirred, and a soft, hissing voice mocked her in her mind. _No…that damn women with the cloak is _dead _as soon as I even _see_ her again…_

Shaking herself off, Carrie forced herself to her feet. Fatigue was creeping in, as slowly and surely as the worst of diseases. She felt it settle into her bones and twist her muscles, making them cry out for rest…screwing up her eyes, Carrie attempted to will the tiredness from her body.

Instead, she began to feel light-headed, and her eyes relaxed, but refused to open…

Coming close to slapping herself, Carrie forced her eyes to snap open. A massive headache greeted her, but ignoring it she began to trudge forwards. _Stupid crewmen…stupid, ugly, overgrown lizards…stupid Captain…_

A vast wave erupted from the waters beside the bridge, splattering Carrie and nearly wiping her off the face of the bridge.

In compromise for not being swept off the stone, Carrie was slammed against the bridge, headfirst. Her throbbing headache screamed out, and Carrie added her voice to its call.

"_Damn!_" Nothing was going right. Clutching her head, Carrie felt blood trickling down her face, neck and hand. _Oh no…_

Just looking at all the blood on her head was making her want to faint…_I've lost so much…why haven't I passed out?_

The wound on her head had distracted her from finding the source of the wave. The problem seemed to solve itself though.

The same, enormous hand from the ship swung forwards, just missing scooping up Carrie by inches. Startled, Carrie rolled out of the way, dodging the attack.

Looking up, the words escaped Carrie before she could even think…

"What the hell _are_ you?" Leering down at her was a reptilian like creature so vast; it made the lizard-men look like toys. _Is that what a dragon looks like?_ Carrie found herself wondering. She'd heard stories, but didn't think them true.

It looked just like the other lizard men, only much, _much_ larger.

As the creature prepared itself for another attack, Carrie fired up an orb of her own.

_Dammit…I'm sick of this…_She hadn't even stepped foot on the actual cursed island and she was near-dead. Well, perhaps not near-dead, but she felt like it.

_And if this doesn't kill me, Cornell and the others will…_

Fear breaking its way into her head, Carrie felt her orbs faltering.

Not good.

The demon took advantage of her distraction, and flung its hand out at her.

This time, its aim was true.

Carrie felt the thick, cold fingers wrap around her. _No…it's going to choke me to death…_

But suffocation did not seem a part of the creature's plan. With a sharp intake of breath, Carrie felt herself being lifted off the ground. Horrified, Carrie tried not to focus on the ground that seemed to be growing farther and farther away—and attempted to keep struggling within the dragon's grasp.

Forcing her attention to the matter at hand, Carrie resisted the grip. Slowly it tightened around her…

…_I _am _going to die from no air…_

…_don't think like that…_

"Damn!" Carrie burst. Instantly she felt the sharp sensation of no air tear through her body, ripping at her chest. _Gotta save my breath…_

Her vision was beginning to blur over…she could barely make out the face of the creature…

_Why am I moving? _She felt as though she was being lifted even higher.

…she could feel her brain exploding, screaming for oxygen…

She was now well above the creatures head—and it looked like a long fall down.

…Blackness was creeping in…

…_I'm not dying…not yet…_

Not wanting to speak, Carrie curled her hand into a fist, and concentrated every ounce of power left in her body to her right hand. Carrie didn't know how strong the orb was or how much energy it took, but she focused her intent on the eyes of the dragon, which she could just make out from her angle.

_C'mon…just go for it…pitch me down…_

With a sharp motion, Carrie felt her hair being blown back from her face, her lips flapping and her eyelids being forced backwards as she was brought down to crash against the stones.

Attention still locked on the dragon's eye, Carrie thrust her hand from out of the grip and released—willing the orb to home in on her target.

Blood splattered everywhere, leaving Carrie in no doubt that it had.

Letting out a screech, the dragon merely dropped the girl and brought its hand to its eye. Clutching it, it screeched again, louder than the last time, and collapsed backwards.

A tidal wave, greater than the one that had come when the dragon first arrived, sprung from the burial site. As the dragon's body sank, the waterfalls created by the waves, quickly began to drain as well, running little rivers back into the ocean.

This time though, the bridge—and Carrie—were spared.

Landing hard on the ground—but not as hard as she would've if she been outright thrown—Carrie rolled as soon as she hit the ground. That was something Cornell had also taught her.

_Who knew…Cornell's taught me everything to stay alive in this place…_

…_but he's gonna kill me once I tell him I've actually put the knowledge to good use._

Now in a crouched position, Carrie put her palms onto the ground before her and forced herself to her feet. If she sat down now and rested, Carrie knew it'd be a while before she was able to get back up.

Staggering, Carrie fumbled about, constantly telling herself to stay vigilant, kept moving.

Somewhere up ahead, she heard the distant noises of a battle raging.

Head jerking up, she saw a green-clad figure mixed among several of the lizard men, sword flashing frantically as it sliced through the mass.

Breaking into a run, Carrie darted forwards, with every intent to help the person in mind.

* * *

****

**_DAY ONE: NIGHT_**

Link was sweating by now, despite the cool night air that had enveloped them long since.

Fatigue was afflicted him heavily, and Link could feel himself growing wearier by the step. This worried

Servant had continuously told them, almost there, almost there…yet; Link was yet to find themselves any closer. Plus the grinding fear of the ever present vampirism…Link shuddered involuntarily, and his neck gave a particularly painful throb.

_How do I even know I can trust this man?_ Still though…Link had no idea where else to turn. And Malus—strange boy that he was, didn't provide any help. _As soon as Malus is safe, I can head on to this _Castlevania_…_though how he would get there, he still had yet to find out.

Up ahead, Servant turned around and exclaimed,

"This is it…hurry up!" With a swish of his cloak, the man seemed to have disappeared into the darkness of the night. Startled, Link grabbed Malus by the arm and shot off after Servant.

"What?" Malus sulked. Well, as much as one could sulk while being dragged at break-neck speed. Link could see it now—the shoreline was actually visible this time.

Energy renewed at the thought of almost reaching his destination, Link picked up his pace, leaving poor Malus nearly stumbling in his wake.

From what he could see at his distance, the shore line was actually rather small, with a dock perhaps large enough for one ship, maybe two. Skidding to a halt, Link studied the shore before continuing forwards. Servant was up ahead, already standing on the shore line. _What are you waiting for?_

Link frowned. If something inside of him was warning him, then Link was far better off listening to it. Treading with care, Link made a few steps towards the shore. There was still the imminent feeling of foreboding that was making the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

There…Link could make out what was putting him on edge.

Off, in the distance, were the faint sounds of a battle going on.

_No…_

There was more…

_That…that's a demon…_

Walking forwards, Link focused hard on the sounds, ignoring everything around him.

_Why…?_

"Damn!" a female voice burst out. Though he hoped for more voices to clue him in, no other sound followed. _If that demon's hurting someone…_

Head jerking up, Link picked up his pace to the shore, almost breaking into a run. Link was surprised; his muscles were already beginning to feel the strain, even though they had just started to work. _Damn vampire girl…_

For a few seconds while he ran, there was utter silence. Not in the least bit comforting.

But in moments it was shattered, breaking like fragile ice after treading on what was thought to be safe.

A high-pitched screech erupted from the lake somewhere, and Link winced openly at the sound. Moments later, another screech ripped through the lifeless air of the Forest of Silence.

Darting forwards, Link was fully prepared to dive into the water and see what had happened to the girl…

…but the water met him.

It rose, like a wild beast, from the depths of the lake and came crashing down in a tidal wave that struck Link at full force.

Staggering, Link remembered to hold his breath just in time so he wouldn't drown. Regardless, he was thrown to the ground, coughing and spluttering, sopping bangs in his eyes and his hat whipped off his head.

Landing on his bottom, Link raised his hand and swatted his bangs away.

_Dammit…_

Without even seeing it, Link knew a sword was plunged into the sand beside him.

Rolling away from the sound, Link scrambled to his feet, sword already in hand. Hastily he shook his bangs away, allowing him a semi-clear vision of his opponents—despite the water that was occasionally dripping down.

Before him were the strangest demons since the Skeletons…giant lizards. About half a dozen armed lizard men, if there was such a species.

Not caring, Link lunged forwards, sword prepared in a thrust. The first lizard man was too slow; Link was able to cut through its scaly skin easily with his Gilded Sword.

The next lizard man saw what had happened, and dashing forwards, it attempted to strike the young man.

Parrying the blow from the axe, Link twisted around and brought the sword down so the pommel hit the lizard in the stomach. Darting forwards before the rest of the lizard-men could even find out what was happening, Link utilized his one good hand so that he could slice the back of one of the lizards, and then rotated the sword fast enough to come down on the next one's head.

To his surprise, Link nearly lost his balance after the spin. With the briefest shake of his head, his temporarily clouded vision cleared. _This isn't good. _

But the lizards were far from dead though, and Link had to thrust his blade into the stomach of one to finish it off. Purple innards gushed out, soaking the blade and drenching the young man's hand.

Not taking the slightest of notices on his filthied palm, Link spun around and sliced the tail off of the other lizard man, and it fell to the ground, writhing as death descended slowly upon it.

Glancing up, Link only just saw his next opponent.

Another lizard man had come rushing at him, prepared to knock him over.

His breath was becoming ragged and shallow; his head was starting to pound, like his brain was rattling against his skull; his neck throbbed to the point of bursting; but Link dare not stop. He had no clue what was going on around him, but what was happening now was what was important.

Skipping out of the way of the rapidly growing puddle of purple blood, Link swiveled around on his center balance—only to find the remaining two lizard-men now _both _charging out at him. Dodging the way, Link readied himself to do a charge of his own.

He would have, too, if it hadn't been for bright blue orb that shot into his view and struck the lizard men from behind.

The orb hadn't done much—it had been too small—but it did distract the first lizard men.

_Where did that come from?_ He had little time to spare for thoughts along that train.

Bolting, Link twisted around when he was almost there and his blade came down hard with a backlash strike on the lizard man. This one, however, managed to dodge such a blow and spun around, swatting Link with its massive tail.

Caught unawares, Link staggered from the blow, blinking blood away from his eyes. Taking advantage of his opponent's lapse of attention, the lizard man pounced on Link, claws outstretched. Rolling onto his stomach, Link brought his sword up so that the lizard man would land on it instead.

The plan successful, Link's blade sliced cleanly through the lizard's body. Just to be sure, Link twisted the sword around, causing more blood to drip onto his own tunic. But the lizard let out a final death cry, and fell limp on top of Link.

_That was only five…_

A sharp gasp from the right reminded Link of the other lizard man.

Shoving the dead carcass off of him, Link jumped to his feet.

The last remaining lizard stood towering over a young girl with odd blue hair. She was on her hands and knees, one arm clutching her stomach. Link couldn't make out her face—her head was bowed—but that was hardly of importance now.

Without hesitating, Link raced forwards; catching his opponent off guard. Link brought his sword down, prepared to rip through this one.

But the lizard man moved sideways, so that it was behind the young girl.

Cursing, Link readied himself to move around the girl, staggering slightly. The lizard was smart—it realized Link wasn't going to cut through a bystander to reach his opponent.

Finding himself aggravated by the girl's interference, Link darted around the girl and struck again, this time slicing the lizard's arm off.

The arm fell down next to the young girl, still twitching while its owner lived.

Not enraged, the lizard leapt _over _the girl—covering her in its blood as it did so—and charged at Link.

The girl seemed to want to help though. Raising her head and hand slightly, it began to glow.

Slowly, an orb began to gather from the light, and off it burst from her hand, headed straight for the two that were fighting.

Now knowing where the orb had come from—and realizing who's side she was on—Link was prepared for the blow to hit the lizard.

But instead, the orb came round, and struck Link in the face.

Successfully blinding him.

Nearly dropping his sword, Link found himself cursing the young girl.

"Dammit! What's wrong with you?" he cried. For Din's sake, he was trying to _help_—

The lizard man tackled Link with the distraction, and Link felt the lizard's weight crushing his wounded arm.

Not wanting the pain to settle in just yet, Link shoved all thoughts aside and swung his sword around to stab the lizard in the side. Effectively doing so, the lizard screeched and rolled off of Link. Stars were still twinkling before his eyes, and he was having a difficult time blinking them away. _Foolish girl…_

Taking advantage of the moment, Link scrambled on his knees to the lizard's side.

Raising his sword, Link dropped it quickly, plunging it into the chest of the lizard man.

Well, tried to.

Eyes being as bruised as they were, his aim was off and he struck the sand beside the demon instead. _Argh! Damned orbs!_

Shoving Link off of him, the lizard man, jumped back to its feet, prepared to strike again. Not wanting to drag this battle out any longer, Link threw his weight forward and tackled the demon so he was on top. Again he lifted the blade and thrust it at the demon.

Once the blade met its destination, Link was sure to twist and wrench it around, killing the lizard-man instantly.

The battle was over, and Link was officially exhausted.

Throughout the battle, it crept in around the corners, threatening to overtake him...and now he submitted fully to it. His neck was aching beyond anything Link had felt since the days of Ganon. Mist was floating across his vision, and stars would soon be joining them.

Dropping his sword in the sand beside him, Link fell back on his bottom and leaned back on his hands.

A light breeze grazed his neck—_I've lost my hat _again—and sweat now mingled with the salty water from the lake that had drenched him.

His eyes themselves were still incredibly sore, and he had to squeeze them shut periodically to ease the pain. _Crazy girl…honestly…_

Raising a sand-covered hand, Link used the back of it to brush his bangs away from his eyes.

Behind him, Link was sure he could hear someone approaching. He tensed, but did not make a move—he had a good idea of who it was. And sure enough, he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

Twisting around slightly, Link turned to glare at the young girl, prepared with a good lecture on avoiding interference.

"Heh...um, sorry?" the voice implored tentatively.

Link felt his eye twitch against his will. _"Sorry"…?

* * *

_

**A/N**: Yeah! It's finally done! Do you know how LONG that took me? Well…you probably do, seeing as to how the update thing shows up…Holy shish kabobs, this is the longest yet it's taken me…T.T


	8. Rinaldo's Apothecary and Inn

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**A/N: **Back from my trip! Not that it was much of a vacation…bleh…okay…without further ado…on with the next chapter!

DISCLAIMER: I don't even know why I bother with these anymore…I don't own anything. Plain and simple. Well…I sort of invented the Inn, but I don't even really own the name of it…ah well…those of you that have played CV: LoI will get it, otherwise…don't worry 'bout it.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight: Rinaldo's Apothecary and Inn**_

* * *

Sand was gritted across his legs; it was poking against his skin and trailed along his already worn green tunic. His traveling cloak lay half-buried in the sand beside him, rugged and dusty. Exhaustion crept into every inch of his body, settling there for what seemed a permanent stay. In particular, his wounded arm was aching from the forced usage and now dying to be released from its gritty sling. His bangs had fallen into a shag, and like some irritating canary were swinging around, clouding his vision and tickling his eyes.

And his neck…

…_oh Goddesses…when did I become this pathetic?_

The pain was extreme, yet constant enough for Link to feel it only as a dull ache. And in moments like these, where all he focused on was his current physical state…

…_damned vampire-girl. I shouldn't have to be dealing with this…_

"So are you _sure_ you're okay?" A voice demanded. For what had to be the millionth time since meeting the girl.

With a groan, Link leaned back onto his one hand and attempted to ignore the infuriating voice of the girl he had saved.

…_I shouldn't have to deal with _this_ either._

With a sigh, Link responded forcefully,

"_Yes_, I've already said…I'll be okay. Thank you for your concern though."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Link distinctly saw the strange-blue haired girl shake her head at him. Normally, he would have written off such an action, but already being in a foul temper Link snapped,

"_Trust me_. I--am--_Fine._" It was all he could do to restrain himself from glaring at her. The dry tone he had used was the best he could manage.

This obviously had not been the right thing to say though; the girl sharply leapt up at this comment.

"I refuse to believe that," she responded, almost scathingly. "You _are not_ okay." Then, in parody of Link's last outburst, she added, "_trust me._" With that, she stepped closer to Link and held out her hand.

_By the muck of the Swamp what good will it do to stand? _Link thought to himself wearily. The girl was set on bringing him to his feet though, and bent over to grasp his hand and dragged him into a stand.

Link felt her fingers around his wrist, tugging…

…and he felt his head hit the sand as his arm slid out beneath him.

Instantly bolting up, Link growled at nothing in particular.

_Din help me before I lose myself to this…_annoyance, frustration and anger had been seeping in all day and had now flooded his veins. Yanking himself to his feet, and getting to a wobbly stand, Link glowered at the girl.

"I am absolutely _fine_ and it is by _no means_ required that you help or repay me in any way of what-so-ever—"

"Do you want me to leave that badly then?" She cut him off. Startled by the laugh in her voice, Link glanced up. She offered a sheepish grin in response, and shrugged.

"Look," she began. "You helped me back there, and all I did was cause more trouble for you. I really am sorry—"

"I know…I've already accepted your apology." Link cut her off. Ignoring the comment, she continued,

"And while you were sitting I realized the best thing I can do is get you to someplace nice where you can rest up." Craning his neck in one direction to try and ease the pain, he looked at her in disbelief.

"And just where exactly would a place like that be found in a place like _this_?" He asked in exasperation, waving his good hand at their surroundings.

Bleak trees that had grown beyond their natural years clamored on the forest border, as though all struggling to reach the sunlight of the beach. Ominous clouds sprawled their way across, feathery giants roaming their vast territory. A cold, moist wind had sharply picked up, and was making both Link and the girl's hair fly in every direction. Shuddering slightly, Link felt the unfamiliar draft on the back of his neck and realized he had again lost his hat.

Casting a glance over the beach, Link realized with a deadened weight in his stomach that there was no chance of finding it. The tides of the Foggy Lake had arms that were constantly groping the shoreline, pulling anything it reached with it. Beside, it was too dark to make out the entire beach, and a light curtain of fog was beginning to perturb the silvery air around it.

"What are you looking for?" The girl asked quietly. Snapping his head back in her direction, Link realized the girl must've been watching as he scanned the shoreline.

"It's nothing…" he muttered, subconsciously bringing his hand up to massage his neck. Blonde bangs whipped into his face, especially with the absence of his cap to restrain them. The girl frowned at his, raising a hand to wipe her own hair out of her eyes.

"Are those _real_?" Link started at the girl's questions. Watching her, he saw her staring at his Hyrulian ears.

"Well, yes—"

"_How_?" she asked, sounding both awed and suspicious.

"What do you mean?" Link replied, exasperated. "They just _are_, I don't know…family trait?" Link felt annoyance creeping in. Yes, Hyrule was the only place where its ancestors were given Elvin ears…but all the same, in all the other Kingdoms he had visited, no one had looked twice on his ears.

The girl shook her head warily at him, and then began walking away; back to the forest.

Link was not sure whether to be relieved she was finally leaving him be, or saddened by her departure. Yes, she had been irritating company, but at least she had been company of sorts.

Not sure whether to follow her or not, the girl answered this for him by stopping on the spot and waving his green cap in the air.

Hesitating only to bend over and grab his cloak, Link obeyed and trotted up next to her. Grasping his hat back from the grinning girl, Link thanked her as he stuffed it back on his head. Together, they began walking back into the forest.

"Where…where exactly are you leading us?" He questioned her, keeping pace to her walk. She was walking relatively fast; she too must have sensed that a storm was headed their way. While waiting for an answer, Link swung the cloak over him, not bothering to properly adjust it. Just having it hanging from him was enough to keep him warm…he would've at least flipped up the hood, but the bite on his neck was inflamed and doing more then enough to keep him warm.

Tugging her own cloak around her tighter, the girl responded, "Rinaldo's."

Raising his eyebrows at the girl, he turned and inquired, "Have you any idea where that is in this forsaken forest?" Staring straight ahead, she answered,

"Not the faintest."

* * *

Carrie distinctly heard the young man beside her grunt in reply. Reminding herself again that she owed him something for saving her life, Carrie did not snap in reply.

She had been suppressing every bout of rude remarks or flippant comments since she met him, but only because it had felt obligatory…she had learned _something_ from Cornell and the other's lessons on courtesy and respect. _Something._

Still staring straight ahead, she added,

"Well, it's not like I knew of it beforehand."

Receiving a quizzical look from her companion, she explained, "You see…a crewman from the ship I was on, the _Tailwhip_, told me I would be able to find some sort of inn in these woods…he had claimed that it should be right by the border of the woods…"

Carrie allowed her sentence to trail off, seeing as to how she herself had no idea where to go after that. This time though, the young man turned to her and said,

"Ah well…we'll make with what we know…" he too, let his sentence trail. Carrie grimaced; the silence would no doubt dominate most of their time, which could be nothing but awkward.

Every crunch of leaves rang through the air, every snapping of a twig raced up their spines…the harsh wind had picked up speed and was now howling against the faces of olden oaks.

Tugging her cloak around her, even tighter than before, Carrie prayed they would see something soon.

Or…

"Did you hear that?" the young man whispered.

…hear something soon.

Pausing in her steps to listen carefully, Carrie could faintly hear it; the sound of muffled laughter and voices roaring.

And if people were nearby…there must be a gathering. The only gathering that would start here would be from the Hunters…which would be by the inn before starting their journey…

Breaking into a run, Carrie paused only to yell to her comrade,

"Come _on_! This way!" before gathering her skirts and bolting. Though she did not check behind her to see if he was following, Carrie heard the rapid crunching of mulch behind her as assurance.

There, in the distance, was a tall, old wooden building. Its shingles flapped like ancient leaves in the wind, crisp and crumbling. It looked like a burned out tree—the entire outside of the house was either black or brown, and from the chimney came a steady stream of smoke.

As she approached closer, Carrie paused in front of the sturdy iron gates to the dwelling. Stone embodied the lower portion of the structure, and sure enough an elegantly carved sign depicted the words _Rinaldo's Apothecary and Inn._

* * *

Link pulled himself to a stop next to his blue haired companion. Before him was an enormous building standing tall against the stormy sky. Looking up, Link mouthed out the name of the building to himself:

"_Rinaldo's Apothecary and Inn_."

Rolling his tongue over the strange name, Link looked through the gates at the landscaping for the building. Shrubs guarded the perimeter or the Inn, and tall trees looked like defense towers set at regular intervals. A granite stone walkway ran up and met the grand doorway up ahead, detouring only to greet small fountains and statuettes along the way.

His eyes drifting back to the gates surrounding the Inn, Link stepped determinedly forwards. Someone had to figure out how to get past these gates.

Locked shut with iron padlocks, the grating was tight and firm. Slowly pacing around, Link surveyed the gateway entrance. It was by far higher than either him or his companion, coming to a steep arc at the top. Vines lolled throughout the bars, providing a blanket covering near the edges.

Then he saw it.

It glittered gently in the weak moonlight breaking through the clouds, despite the worn look of it. Reaching up, Link grasped a hold of the bell and tinkled it gently. A pure, crisp sound shattered the late night frost that was resting on top of the two travelers.

In response to the bell's song, Link saw the front door to the inn swing open. Out stalked a tall, thickly muscled man. His face was grim and hard, with a short goatee. The only adornment was a deep black eye patch slung across his left eye. There may as well have been two patches—the man's right eye remained stationary and unblinking, showing no signs of life.

As the man approached, Link felt his muscles tense despite the exhaustion that had settled thoroughly in. A battle could very well be approaching for all Link knew of this land.

His fractured arm cried out in protest at the sudden tension, but Link ignored the scream.

Upon seeing them, the man continued down the walk way.

Link tried to shake off the feeling of unease; _I've become far too suspicious…_

Finally the man reached the gateway, so close that he could have been nose-to-nose with Link and the girl. Glowering down at them, he barked,

"Whence did you come from?"

Link kept his mouth shut, allowing the girl to take the lead. He assumed—_hoped—_she would catch on.

"From beyond the Foggy Lake, sir. We've yet to start," she replied vaguely. _Start? _Link turned his head to glance at the girl. She seemed fairly confident; though twisting her cloak between her hands and her slight hesitation was a warning sign.

The man grunted.

"Whom have you taken your leave by?"

"Er—the Captain of the West Guard, sir."

The man nodded his head slowly, doubt still swept across his face. The girl must have realized this, for she quickly carried on,

"Sir Cornell. He sent us here on the notion that we would succeed as representatives for both our noble houses and on behalf of our vill—" Cutting herself off, she rushed on,

"—our villa, estate and brethren." _Estate? Brethren…villa? _Link pondered to himself. The man cocked one eyebrow slightly at her, and responded skeptically,

"_The_ Sir Cornell approved of sending a little stick of a girl like you into the unknown as a Hunter?" Link's companion shot the man before a look of utter contempt before responding,

"I don't believe it is the place of an _innkeeper _to question the good Captain Cornell's judgment."

The man grunted in response.

"Fine then…" he sneered down at her. The man had barely taken notice of Link. "What's the word of pass?"

"Excuse me?" was the girl's startled response.

"Yes…you need a word of pass, you ought to know that, being an approved Hunter and all…" the man let his challenge go, hanging.

"Of course. I know that…don't treat me like a fool," the girl snapped. Link sucked in a deep breath between slightly parted lips. He may be foreign to this world, but even he knew better than to speak to the owner of a dwelling like that.

"Password." The man remained unblinking.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Link waited in anticipation to hear the girl respond. _Please, please know what you're doing…_

"Oh course I know…" Carrie snapped irritably. "Don't treat me like a fool." Beside her, she heard her companion shuffle slightly. So far, he hadn't spoken up once since they'd arrived at the Inn.

"I…uh…" _Password?_ Why had no one told her about a password before? Why had Cornell, Henry or Ada never said anything about…_argh…I would have heard Cornell exchanging the password with _one_ of his men…_Carrie actually felt slightly hurt that this information had never been told to her.

_Why on earth would they tell _you_ though? _

The last thing Cornell would've wanted would've been for her to go on this journey.

_Cornell came up with the password…so…it's got to be related to him somehow. My best bet anyways…_

"You get one chance at this. If you were told the password, you should get it straight away."

Carrie shot him another scornful glance, before turning her mind back to the matter at hand.

_One guess…_

"Ada…" she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Ada? Is that your guess?" A slight smirk told her she was wrong.

"Of course not!" Carrie covered up quickly. "I said _aid_…I was praying to Him that he could aid me dealing with someone as…" She didn't continue. The man glared at her anyways.

"Wolf!" she shot out, thinking of Cornell's collection.

"Is _that_ your guess?" His expression was very dry, not at all showing any sign of recognition.

"No!" Carrie exclaimed. "I just…thought I saw…" An empty cough from her silent companion filtered into the awkward moment.

"Hurry it up then," the Innkeeper barked, his rough words scratching against moist night air.

"I…the password is…" Carrie faltered, thinking hard. Subconsciously, she felt her hand drift upwards and finger the pendant.

_Dammit Cornell…_

…the pendant was glowing warmly against her chest…

"Blue crescent moon!" She burst out. _Oh please, please…_

"_Blue crescent moon?_ Is that your final answer?" Not even bothering to watch the Innkeeper's face this time, Carrie nodded, eyes glued to the flow. Waiting for the Innkeeper's response, Carrie grasped Cornell's chain tighter.

_Get this right…get this right…_

The iron gates made a high pitched squeak as they swung open.

* * *

Link collapsed onto the downy bed that had been made for him, breathing in deeply. Even from his upstairs room, he could smell the powerful scent from spicy meats, lush wines and fresh vegetables. The aroma of sugar sweet pastries also wafted through, delicate delicious desserts.

And to accompany that was the roaring sounds of laughter, shouts and calls of recognition between the Hunters.

Hunters of the Night.

Those who were supposedly meant to protect their land, though from what Link was yet to be sure of. Perhaps just demons in general—this land was infested with them. Worse then the days of Ganon's rule it seemed like, but at least here there was still happiness despite all of the evil that seem to plague their kingdom.

Resting his head against his feather-filled pillow, Link attempted to let his over-worked muscles relax. The window next to his bed had been thrown open, letting a few rays of moonlight and a light breeze drift through, painting across his room air.

This had to be, in the longest time it seemed, his first break.

Just a chance to relax. Calm down.

Link realized it wouldn't last though; he only had a mere three days and the last thing he needed was to waste his time here.

Allowing his mind to wander, he found himself thinking back to how he'd gotten _here_.

_By the Giants…more than one day has to have passed by now…_

It had started no sooner then this very morning, when he'd left the Romani Ranch at the crack of dawn. He must have left Clocktown by noon, and had been traveling for perhaps…_two…three hours? And then…I was attacked by the monstrous Skeletons…_

It was almost evening when Lily and the Schneider fellow had found him…Reinhardt had been his name. Thinking back, Link felt a tingle of anger…

…_damn vampires._

His neck gave a particularly powerful throb, as did his arm.

_Maybe if you hadn't been so naïve, so ignorant and foolish as to fall into another trap like that…_

Stopping himself, Link concentrated on going back to his reflection of the day's events. No sense punishing himself for something that could not be changed.

After the bite, he had awoken to Malus, whom had been the one to tell him of the legendary Castlevania that he ought to journey for. That was where his best bet to find his maker would be. From there, he had come to the shoreline, met the strange blue-haired girl…

…_and you lost the boy. _This was not going well for Link.

_Stop thinking like this. It's not you fault you couldn't keep an eye on him._

He helped you, the annoying voice pointed out.

_I did what I could…_

…it truly was useless. Link didn't even know why he tried. Now that Malus was missing, Link would feel nothing but guilt. Hopefully though, nothing terrible happened to him, and maybe Link would even meet up with him again while traveling to Castlevania.

As to how he was going to get there…he hadn't the faintest idea. He knew nothing of this land, knew of no passages, no locations…

…perhaps…

…_no, I doubt that would work._

He supposed he _could_ ask the girl who'd helped him so far for some help.But then…she had already done enough. Besides, how much could she honestly know about journeying to an evil castle? _Why _would she want to?

She had brought him to this inn, registered him with the one of the Innkeeper's so he could have a room for the night, and even made arrangements for a hot bath and for him to be taken care of.

He had appreciated all of it, though the bath hands really hadn't been necessary. All they had done really was annoy him, though they had come in useful in rewrapping his fractured arm. Sighing, Link pushed himself up on one arm in his bed.

Closing his eyes to guard against the rapid rush of blood to his head, Link felt his attempts fail.

The first thing he was going to do, he decided, was attend to his arm. Considering this place was also an apothecary, he should have no trouble obtaining some kind of remedy.

Within seconds a massive headache had split open throughout.

Groaning, Link threw himself back onto the bed.

Forget waking up. _I deserve a few hours rest…_

Unfortunately, it couldn't have been more than ten minutes when a banging on the door interrupted his thoughts. The door was unlocked, so Link simply called for the person to enter.

A maid scuttled in, coming around Link's bed and breathily asking,

"Good sir, may I ask if you'll be coming down to the common room for dinner? Or would you prefer to have the meal brought up to you?" He would've liked to just stay up in his room; people seemed to have a mostly negative reaction to him already. About to say so, Link stopped when another thought occurred to him; he could use this chance to find out a bit more about where he was going. If there were more Hunters down in the Inn Common Room, some of them had to know something.

Link sat up in his bed, hanging his legs over the side and replied,

"I'll…I'll come down to join the rest."

The girl curtsied then scurried out the door, leaving Link alone in his room again. Letting out a deep breath, Link pushed himself to feet. He dressed quickly but carefully, shaking out the fatigue in his muscles.

* * *

Dark grey loomed over the deep green leaves surrounding Rinaldo's. Accenting the night portrait was the lining of the plump silver clouds bursting to cry. How the weather had managed to run so far amuck was beyond Carrie's comprehension.

_But then, _the young woman reminded herself, _nothing much has been making sense as of late._ The whole day was nothing but a blur; the morning back in Winde Village, the flight over Foggy Lake…

A twinge of guilt panged through Carrie's chest as she thought of her dashing escape. There was no way the Orphanage still hadn't realized she was gone, especially since Felix had been right there when she'd disappeared. _Between Tri, Felix and Cornell, they're bound to come after me soon enough. _She just hoped they were the only ones in her pursuit.

Subconsciously, Carrie's right hand rubbed her wrist.

Her hood was still pulled up far around her visage, but lifting her arms up, she was able to make out the faint red welts that still adorned them.

Dropping her arms to rest of on the cherry wood table in front of her, Carrie gripped her pewter mug.

Though she may have been chilled to the bone, utterly fatigued, dirty and goodness knew what else—she was alive. She had made it this far. She was still in one piece, still capable of moving forwards.

_And it can only get harder from here on out. _

Grimacing, Carrie lifted the mug and slowly started sipping the hot cider. Rolling the taste around her mouth, she surveyed the common room around her. Jolly, drunken men; jaded bartenders; vivacious barmaids and a whole assortment in between. There were, Carrie noticed, some women amongst the crowds—some of which even looked like Hunters. _Good then. It'll be far easier for me to blend in. _

She would be better off leaving as soon as possible though. Best in the early morning, so she could have the sun on her side for as long as possible. Who knew what she would find in this cursed forest. Resigning herself with this thought, Carrie pushed her chair back, prepared to arise. She sat down again quickly however, feigning a stretch.

A new edition to the common room had changed her mind.

* * *

Now dressed in a loose white shirt and sleeper pants, Link treaded into the common room cautiously. The last thing he wanted was any attention drawn to him. Though he was now clad in almost pure white, he stilled donned his forest green hat. He could think of no other way to hide his foreign ears in the place.

Boots still on his feet for lack of other attire, even Link thought he might garner some funny looks with his outfit. Fortunately, he was greeted by a raucous of merrymaking and shouting in the common room, people bustling in and about. No one would spare the time of day to glance over every newcomer to join.

A fire roared grudgingly by the hearth, fighting the cold that was seeping in from swinging doors to the outside. To his right was a glossy oak counter reaching around in a full hexagon almost. A few surly looking men with aprons over their clothes and rags in their hand stood inside, serving customers. _That has to be their bar…_not that Link would need to go there. He had experienced drunkenness once before—when Kafei had taken him to his first real bar, and it wasn't an experience he wished to relive.

The room was lined with windows, and in front of those were cherry wood table sets, most filled with people indulging in their suppers. As Link continued forwards, he noted that to his right were various, decorative rugs spread out in front of the hearth. These too were covered by people—mainly those finished eating or too drunk to sit up and eat.

Finding an empty table near the window, Link sidled into his seat careful not to bump his bandaged arm. Looking down, Link grimaced at his wounded arm. He had just changed the bandages—or rather, Malus had changed the bandages a mere few hours ago. And yet after his struggle on the shoreline, the bandages were already dirtied. Not as badly as they had been after falling down ditch, but ruined all the same. Without having to wait too long, a boisterous barmaid strode towards his table.

"How can I help you?" she inquired politely. Though he had not eaten for quite some time, Link was surprised to feel…nothing. Hunger had yet to strike his overworked body. Frowning, Link sent her off with the order for only a mug of hot cider.

_It'd be better if I ate now—I ought to skip breakfast tomorrow…_leaving early would be his best choice. He would attract the least attention, plus he could cover as much as ground as possible in his slim three days. Link's neck gave a painful throb in response, taunting him. He had been lucky that the shirt he was wearing had a collar around the sides and back, though it plunged into a regular neckline in the front. By keeping the collar up, Link could easily hide the inflamed bite on his neck.

Still though, Link couldn't get over the fact that he truly wasn't hungry. Tomorrow then, he would have to get up early and do without…there must be something in this forest that could be hunted as game. At this point in his journey, Link did not have to the time for trivial things like food and sleep.

Finishing off his mug, Link beckoned a barmaid over. It was a different young woman than before; this one looked to be in a fouler mood then the previous. A pretty face plagued by weariness and irritation scowled at him.

"What will you be needing then?" she demanded. Though he had presumed her acerbic nature the sharp voice still came as a surprise. Back in Termina or Hyrule, such manner was unthinkable of a waiter.

"Just need my bill," he waved one hand over his drink. The women rolled her eyes exasperatedly, then with a quick chirp,

"One moon; solid." Link gave a start—he had never heard such terms before.

"Er…"

"You _do_ have the money, don't you?" the woman inquired suspiciously.

"Well yes, but..."

"What?" the woman snorted. "Don't know how to use it?" She gave a small chuckle to her own joke.

"Actually," Link began, "that'd be exactly my problem." Lifting out the purse Malus had given him, Link dumped some of the shiny contents on to the table.

Upon seeing the earnest look Link was wearing, the sour expression on the woman's melted.

"Oh love; it's simple," she said, her voice dripping with enough honey to sicken a bee. Quirking one eyebrow up at her, the woman carried on,

"A moon is just one silver piece—I let my tavern talk slip again," she gave a high laugh. Having no one else's words to go on, Link did not stop her as she reached over and picked up one silver coin from the table.

"And, er—how much should I give you as a tip?" as stupid as he felt, asking would be better than insulting her by accident. _Every man has to learn when to swallow his pride to keep a woman happy. _Of all the things Talon had ever said to him, this had probably been the wisest. Only the Goddesses knew how many times that had saved him from trouble.

The woman's eyes flickered.

"Well…" if possible, her voice had sweetened even more, "the usual to give would be, say, another moon."

"Oh?" Came another sneering voice—this one Link recognized. "And what service is he paying you for…here or upstairs?" Feeling his face heat up, Link quickly dropped his eyes onto his lap. _That voice though…_

…_foolish girl. _Link's eyes snapped up to see and indignant woman standing next to a cloaked figure.

Turning around, the woman snapped at Link,

"Forget it; I don't want your money." She even went so far as to throw the first silver piece down on the table as well. A scowl approaching his face, Link attempted to drop it when he grabbed the barmaid's arm as she was leaving,

"Don't—" He pressed three golden coins into her hand in apology. "For the trouble."

The women's eyes widened, but she nodded a thank you and walked away slower, staring in awe at the money she was holding.

"What was that for?" The same voice snapped. She shook her head in anger, blue bangs poking out from a deeply drawn hood. "I got her away and everything and you had to ruin it." Link turned again, the scowl resettling on his solid features. It wasn't everyday that Link was irritated, but this foolish girl…

…_calm down. She was only trying to help. _

It was the day's events. It had to be. Nothing but trouble since he'd left Termina; all of it was starting to wear on his nerves.

"Don't look at me like that," the voice snapped yet again. If she said one more thing, Link was almost certain it would be his temper next. "I was only trying to help."

In a huff, his blue haired companion turned to leave. When she turned her back on him, Link felt a bite of his temperament ebbing away.

"No—wait," he said, surprised at the weariness he heard in his own voice. "I'm sorry—I realize…thank you…" _But it wasn't necessary. _Link remembered Talon. The girl turned around, though her own voice hadn't softened in the least,

"Yes well, if you keep up the obvious foreigner charade then you're bound to get deceived. Look alive and try keeping your head together, goodness."

"Excuse me?" Link cut himself short, biting back his next few words. Surprise was now thrown over him—surprise at his own angered reaction. He really was getting testy.

"Excuse what?" she snapped. Frowning, Link stood up holding back his frustration to a look of stark disapproval.

"I thank you for your help, but there was no need to be so rude—" the girl threw down her hood in protest, about to speak up "—but once again I appreciate your concern. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going off to bed after a rough day—you may want to do the same." Curiously, the girl froze where she stood at his words.

Link attempted to push back the coins into his purse, but discovered this to be a ridiculously difficult task with only one arm being of use.

The girl leaned forward and picked up the purse, holding it open for him. When he glanced at her, she was giving him the strangest look.

"Sorry," she mumbled, eyes dropping to the table quickly. Link nodded in acknowledgment, too surprised in the change of demeanor to say anything. She had somehow almost…softened a bit towards him. A light silence hung over their heads in which they both stood almost still.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" the girl's impatience had leaked back into her voice, shattering the silent into dangerously sharp pieces. "Are you gonna put the damn coins in the purse or should I go throw them at some more barmaids for you?"

Shaking his head slightly, Link scooped up the coins and dropped them in the purse, collecting it from her hands afterwards.

"You know..." the girl let her sentence trail off. Feeling his own turn of impatience coming on, Link inquired as politely as he could,

"_Yes?_"

"The apothecary is the building to the left of this one from the main doors. You may wanna go have a look," she flapped her hand towards his sling. Re-adjusting her hood back to its original position, the girl turned and left.

_Strange girl._

Forehead creased in thought, Link took the girl's advice and headed for the main door. If these apothecaries were anything like the ones back home, Link was certain they had to be able to heal his arm.

As soon as he stepped outside, Link felt the icy breath of the night blow over him. It tingled his skin and sent shivers down his spine. The nights here felt nothing like the ones back home.

Almost pitch black encompassed the forest for as far as he could see, the only shred of light being a half moon suspended high in the air. A canopy of deep green leaves stopped even this beam from reaching the forest floor, leaving the forest path gloomy and foreboding. As he began to walk, Link noted the ground was still dry beneath his boots, but the plump, imminent clouds would surely change that soon enough. Link could only hope to get in and out of the apothecary before the rain came down.

By following the granite path, Link reached a small, shack like building. By the deadened wood and peeling shingles, it was easy to see this had to be the oldest building within the Rinaldo's ground. A light shone dimly through the windows, alluding to someone's presence inside.

Flipping up the bar lock on the outside, Link stepped in.

The ground hadn't changed much—this floor was made from a sturdy, grayish-blue marble. A rectangular rug made for a walkway straight to the end of the cabin.

Inside was quiet, except for the light crackling coming from candles throughout the cabin. To his left, there was a wooden counter supporting the largest candle set, backed by a tall shelf that held simple looking items and a few small jars. In front there was a small oblong table, matched with two simple chairs. The walls were lined with different axes, swords, shields and various holy instruments.

What caught his eye though, was in the farthest corner of the room.

There was a hearth, though no fire burned in it. But above, a portrait of a stern looking man stood with his arms crossed. His long silver hair was parted into two flat braids, and he wore a decorative blue overcoat. Beneath, a simple white robe was elaborated only by a drawstring collar and below that; a simple necklace holding a single gold coin. On his arms were brown leather gauntlets, cut to leave his hands free to work with.

Below, Link saw a plaque that read the following inscription:

_In memory of late Rinaldo Gandolfi 1048 a.d. – 1106 a.d._

_Esteemed alchemist and aid in Lord Leon Belmont's quest against Walter Bernhard._

_This Inn grew from Rinaldo's Cottage—a small cabin this brave man resided in to serve those who up took the task of fighting the Master of the Dark Castle—now renowned as Castlevania. Walter Bernhard played with the lives of mortals, luring them through what was then known as Eternal Knight and into his castle. _

_Rinaldo Gandolfi created numerous potions to cure the various devilish ailments that befell these hunters, as well as provided them with the artillery to fend for themselves. Unfortunately, each hunter met their demise against Bernhard, until the courageous Leon Belmont arrived to save the life of his beloved fiancée Lady Sara Trantoul. Using this very residence as his base, Lord Belmont conquered the infinite darkness and slew Bernhard. _

_It is the sincerest wish of the Gandolfi family that our Apothecary and Inn may serve you to this same extent in your journey, so long as the cause fall in the good light of God._

That had explained nothing, only bringing more questions to mind. Leon Belmont, Rinaldo, Walter Bernhard…_if Bernhard was the Master of Castlevania, and he was slain, then why is there a hunt continuing now? _

The brief summary of the Inn's history read like an old weaving, threadbare, fabricated and full of holes that Link felt he could see right through. Not that it had been _lying_ per sae...just…

…_wish I knew the full story._

There was a lot Link would have to learn of course, but whether or not he had the _time_ was in question. Three days, and he had enough to worry about.

For a brief moment, Link thought he heard a latch being opened. Turning quickly, he surveyed the cabin's front door; yet it looked to be unmoved.

"Can I help you?" a dry voice wafted out from the other side of the room. Focusing in on the voice, Link moved towards the counter. Faintly, he could make out a figure clad in a navy blue robe.

"Yes—I am in need of a potion for my arm."

The owner of the voice stepped into the dim light of the candles. In front of Link stood a middle-aged woman, the same sternness present on her face as he had seen on her ancestor.

Her graying hair was pulled into a rough bun at the back of her head; strands still escape the hair net's entrapment though. Aside from the simple silk robe she wore, a deep green cloak encompassed her shoulders, the broad hood flipped back in elegance. She wore no jewelry save two large golden hoops for her ears, and a thin gold chain which suspended her spectacles.

"What ailment has befallen it?" she asked curtly. Striding up to the front of the counter, she began tapping the counter with claw like nails.

"It's fractured—at the joint."

"How did you fracture it then?" the women responded as she turned around and began bustling through her shelves. Chess pieces, jars, bottles, gems and countless other items all rattled about as she dug through.

"Er…" Link paused, thinking. "I put too much weight on it."

"Where was the weight coming from?"

"Um…"

"Was your arm outstretched, and the weight directed at your palm? Or—"

"Oh—no!" Link quickly replied. "I had it bent, and a piece of lumber fell on it from above…I think it sort of…bent backwards." The woman moved around from behind the counter, coming face to face with Link.

"Show."

Wordlessly, Link raised his arm for her inspection. A crinkle of disapproval appeared around the corners of eyes.

"I'll need you to sit." The woman motioned to one of the simple chairs. Link complied, sitting in silence. Without warning the woman gripped his injured arm and began unwrapping the bandages with quick, firm actions.

However, it still left Link wincing.

Link had not looked at his arm since it had been fractured, and he had the strongest feeling that he wouldn't want to now.

_But then…_

Peeking down, Link retreated his head away in disgust. His arm had swollen to a purple-ish green, surrounding by a sickly yellow. The bandages had left their mark, indenting on his arm in a way that caused the swelling to grow in patches with thread-thin dents in between. Dried blood spluttered across his arm like dirt, melting into an array of reds and browns.

The woman clucked his tongue.

"How in God's name did you do _that_?" she inquired as she moved to dispose of the bandages.

"Building accident."

It was a very good answer, in Link's opinion. Wasn't a lie, and spared him the trouble of confessing the whole story. Shame at his own foolishness still mingled there.

The woman grunted in response before heading through a back door Link hadn't noticed before. After a few minutes, she returned with a bottle containing a bright green liquid and a small cylindrical container. Approaching him, she placed the bottle on the table and opened up the container.

Inside was a clear but extremely viscous liquid. The women dunked two fingers in; afterwards smearing it onto Link's arm.

The woman raised her eyebrows when his muscles tensed.

"It's only going to hurt more you know." Link gritted his teeth but didn't respond. The liquid itself was almost a cool, calming sensation—but the woman was _digging _it into his skin. The chilling sensation was lost to the burning inflammation that sparked up all throughout his limb.

"Okay," she said finally, pulling her hand away. Using the other hand she grabbed the bottle off the table. "Now drink this."

Link took the green potion from her, and sipped it cautiously. The woman narrowed her eyes at him; Link quickly gulped down the rest. It didn't taste bad…almost minty, to Link's surprise. It took Link a few moments before he realized the lightheaded, numbing feeling he was gathering all over. The only sensation he felt was a strange tingling that was coming from his arm; it felt almost like a sleeping limb coming back to life.

The woman rewrapped his arm in fresh bandages.

Pushing his chair back gently, Link attempted to get up. He found he only wobbled slightly, but after walking back to the counter, some feeling had returned to his legs. The woman had moved to the other side of the counter, and said to him,

"Now just let your arm rest and it should be healed in a few hours—don't eat anything until then. The High Potion needs to settle in throughout your body to work with the ointment."

"Thank you…how much do I owe you?"

"Eleven gold pieces."

Link pulled out the purse, dumped some contents onto the table and let the woman count it out for herself. She then took the liberty to replace the remaining coins back into his purse.

"Goodnight then. Rest well and may God help your healing."

Link nodded, words failing him as the numbness spread to his tongue. No sense making a fool of himself furthermore.

Quickly, Link returned to the main house so he could head back to his room for the night. It was almost midnight from the clock in the common room, and Link needed to be up and out of this place early tomorrow.

The pillow felt soft against Carrie's tired skin. Having finally been able to bathe, she was now lying in just her under dress, her clothes hanging to dry. Not that there had been any point. After she had sent the strange young man off to the apothecary, she'd headed off to the building on the other side of this one—Rinaldo's little plaza.

It wasn't a large place, and offered more services than it did goods. Blacksmiths, sword smiths, tailors…the last had been Carrie's destination. After flashing a few coins to a group of tailors inside the small shop, they were quick to compile a simple, sturdy outfit for her.

After a few hours of sleep, she'd wake early, dress and leave before this place could even miss her.

Best get ahead start.

_Tri, Felix, Henry, Cornell…they'll all be coming for me soon. No doubt I've put them into a fit by now…_a frown found its way onto her face, the guilt she had been suppressing catching up.

_It's just because I'm tired, _she told herself firmly, shutting her eyes as she forced sleep over herself. _Too much has gone on today; my mind is letting everything seep in through the cracks._

In her head, the soft image of Nicholas's face, mixed with Beth's and Tass's surfaced.

Carrie flipped onto her side and scrunched up tight, eyes included.

_Don't worry. I'll find you somewhere in this damned Castlevania—you'll see._

_As long as nothing finds me first._

* * *

Roaring flames from a young bonfire stretched high into the sky. Deep oranges, golden yellows and bright reds melted into one another, mingling and fighting at the borderlines. Sir Samuel watched as the leg like flames crawled across the logs, feasting on the dead skin of trees.

How he had longed to throw the witch to embers.

And how infuriatingly close he had come.

The Fernandez witch had been right under his very nose—and, he remembered with a smirk, right under his tongue…how scared she'd been. Completely pathetic—and yet he had failed to finish her off.

Failed to prove he could keep his village safe from harm's way. _Dammit all, blasted fool who helped the wench escape._

_Sir _Cornell had to have had something to do with it. He must've. _Damn dog that he is._

A slow sneer crawled over his angular face. He knew things about that dog that would make anyone's hair curl. And he could say it too, if there wasn't the problem of…

…_dogs. They're all just a bunch of scoundrel dogs._

A clutter of clanking noise brought Sir Samuel out of his reverie. Looking up from his squatted position by the campfire, Sir Samuel saw a gathering of his most trusted knights nearby. Those more loyal to _Sir _Cornell were scattered along the sides, hesitant to obey a knight not deemed their captain. No doubt they would be thinking _with good reason too. _Sir Samuel scoffed.

_Hardly matters what they think. They dare not disobey the good Church._

Which was the reasoning behind the numerous priests that were standing around the campground, expressions tried and tested.

"Greetings, good men of the King!" Father Michael began, gazing around at the nights, "You have come in answer to your church, your faith and your honour. Be proud." A mumble of voices answered this, as the nights waited for the real reason to being called on such short notice.

"I know you all are awaiting the reasoning for this meeting," Father Michael continued. "This has taken place in response to this morn's events. Although; this can be taken back months back." Murmurs quieted down, shuffling stopped and breath was collectively held.

"As is known, this morning's burning of Carrie Fernandez failed due to unknown aid. Let it be reminded that should the helper in this treason to the village be found the reward is one thousand gold pieces, courtesy of Sir Samuel Clayton." At the mention of the witch's name, Sir Samuel had become too absorbed in his own angered thoughts to even notice the mention.

"But there is, as we all know, a far greater problem lurking within the depths of night. This is not a wife's tale to frighten children, this is not a ghost story—we all are very aware of the Prince of Darkness's imminent presence. In light of all the attacks, the strongest, wisest and bravest of our kind have left to hunt the night."

"But alas, this has not proved enough. In nine days and time will have told its final tale for all of Walachia. Nine days until hell breaks over and our world that thrives in the sunlight will be gone as we know it. Nine days—and little progress has been made. The attacks are only worsening with each night…nine days until Count Dracula awakes."

A shudder ran involuntarily throughout the crowd at the thought of the land's most horrid ruler rising again from the dead as the Servant of Satan.

"He will be weak, but his minions will gather strength for him," Father Michael warned. "Which is why we must—we _must_ stop the Fernandez girl on her journey to rejoin her master. There is no doubt she is of great power, and will aid the Count in his quest to conquer the land still bathed in light. This cannot—"

"And what evidence backs that notion?" an angry voice exclaimed from amidst the crowd. Sir Samuel smirked. He recognized the voice at once.

"And what authority do you have to question the knowledge of the Church, Sir Henry?"

On cue, a blonde haired young man emerged to the front of the crowd, eyes livid on a mask of rage.

"One does not need authority to see that common sense isn't being used—"

"Master Oldrey!" barked Father Michael. "Are you siding with the Witch then?"

"So what if—"

"Of course he isn't, father," a voice cut Sir Henry's rash words off. Sir Samuel recognized that voice too—although it made him far from smirk.

"Father Michael," Sir Samuel drawled. "Don't bother taking our dear Captain's opinion into account. You see, he's long since been hexed by the girl for so long it's clear he'll only protect her.'

"Silence!" Father Michael snapped. Feeling rather taken aback, Sir Samuel closed his mouth.

"Captain Cornell," Father Michael began gently. "You are an outstanding knight and a loyal Captain to the Village and the Church no doubt, but this is one mission I'm afraid you cannot take part in."

"This has become a mission now?" Sir Cornell inquired, face carefully set to show no emotion. "But if I'm not to be in it…then…who will be leading…" Without having to finish his question, the man looked up in Sir Samuel's direction.

"Aye, that would be right," Father Michael nodded in agreement. "This quest was organized by Sir Samuel Clayton, and he is to lead the men in their Witch Hunt. She was from our Village, and it is our responsibility to put a stop to her."

Raising his voice, Father Michael cried out, "You know now why she must be stopped! Go while you can to fight for on behalf of Winde; for the sake of Walachia; lest 800 years of Belmont courage be thrown to waste."

The crowd roared in response, the inner circle being the loudest. But before they hoarded off, Father Michael made one final cry, "May the Lord bless you for all of us!"

The crowd of knights dispersed as they headed out to prepare for the hunt. Amidst the crowd, Sir Samuel saw his two least favourite knights talking quickly and quietly to one another.

_Those two will cause nothing but trouble for my men no doubt._

* * *

_**DAY TWO: MORNING**_

_A soft nuzzling against his neck startled Link. Before even opening his eyes, Link recognized the soft fur and warm breath. _

Epona_, he thought contently to himself. Lifting his eyelids, Link looked around his surroundings. He was sitting beneath the canopy of a wizened tree. And judging by the familiar ranch he saw up ahead, Link guessed he was resting in Hyrule fields. The Zora River rushed past beside him, the gentle noise tickling his ears softly. Epona was standing beside him, nudging him softly to get up. _

_Link complied, turning and hoisting himself atop of Epona's soft leather saddle. Instantly she whinnied softly, and began padding along the fields, following the river. _

_However, the ground started to shake._

_Lightly at first, but only picking up in speed._

_Epona panicked. Rushing forwards, Link distinctly heard the sound of rattling bones behind him. Then it came. _

_An explosion._

_Link gripped tightly with two working hands, knowing what was to come. And yet still, as Epona picked up in speed, Link felt her slipping beneath his fingers._

"_Epona!" he cried, voice hoarse. "Slow _down_!"_

_Not heeding her Master's words, Link felt himself tilting sideways. Losing his grip under his legs, Link toppled, falling flat for the river._

_A thick splash rushed up to meet him. Coughing and spluttering, Link struggled to free himself…_

Link's eyelids snapped open. Sitting up, he reminded himself of the bed he was sleeping in. After calming himself down, Link slowly sank back into his pillow, breathing heavily. It had been a ridiculous dream; Link was perfectly capable of swimming, especially in something as shallow as the Zora River.

Maybe it hadn't been the _drowning_ that upset him so.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Link got up walked to the window. The moon still hung in the sky, though it was fainter than before. Light brushes of paler hues were streaked throughout the night sky, and Link could only assume it was almost sunrise.

Link rested his hands on the windowsill, before realizing something; he could rest _both_ his hands on the sill. Startled, Link nearly jumped back from the table, running his hand against his healed arm. The swelling had disappeared completely, and his skin had faded to its normal tone, save a light yellow tinge. When he pressed against it, it panged very slightly, but otherwise…

…_it was no red potion, but definitely worth the gold. _

For the first time since losing Epona, Link felt his luck take a turn upwards. After rolling his arm, flexing it and stretching it numerous times, Link nearly sprung around and headed to his closet. Doubting he would be able to get back to sleep anyways, Link groped around for his clothes in the dark.

Once he found his attire and artillerary, he dressed quickly. Link did notice that his old tunic had been repaired to a point of almost new. Feeling touched, Link pulled two silver pieces out of his purse and rested them on his night table.

Now ready to set off, Link stepped through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

* * *

Link had just reached the gates when a thought struck him; he hadn't the faintest idea where he was going. Beyond the gates, the forest loomed imposingly over him. The demented trees stretched far into the sky, and reached beyond his vision across the ground.

The slight hopefulness that had reached him had crashed at shore and was now sinking rapidly. Link furrowed his brow. He had been in many situations where he'd been completely lost but still found his way.

But still…it had felt different then. This land, this place…there wasn't…

_I can't put my finger on it, but something about this world keeps bringing me down._

Link shook his head clear of the pessimist thoughts.

Turning, Link walked back to the granite boulders that sat on the front lawns. Hoisting himself atop of one, he tried to contemplate what his next course of action was going to be. He had to act soon, yes, but he had to be careful. Rash proceedings would only waste precious time. Leaning back on his repaired arm, Link scowled at the luminous sky in front of him.

_This is ridiculous. I was deceived by a little girl who I was trying to _help_; I don't even know why I'm here in the first place…_Link corrected himself. He knew exactly how he'd ended up here…_I'm stuck here simply because I couldn't stay on a damned horse—one would think after everything we've been through Epona would be braver than that—_Link cut himself off in shock.

He'd never blamed Epona for anything, and the guilt instantly swept in at his accusation towards. Any mistake that had occurred was his fault—and besides, loyal and fierce she may be, Epona was still a horse. What she had done was only natural.

It was this damned place that was bringing about all these negative thoughts…

What he needed was something to uplift him a bit. Something to remind him of home. What he needed was…

Turning back around, Link seated himself on one of the granite boulders that decorated the front lawn of the Inn. Pulling out his ocarina, Link began playing softly.

He started with simple melodies: Zelda's Lullaby, Epona's Song, Prelude of Light…songs that brought him a little closer to home. Fingers dancing on the smooth blue instrument, Link guided them with ease as they landed and took off from each cavity wedged on the Ocarina of Time.

* * *

A soft breeze swept in through the open window, easing Carrie out of a dreamless sleep. Eyelids fluttering open, Carrie shifted around so that she was lying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. The thick blanket had kept her warm, despite the cool, crisp air blowing in from beside her bed. The light from a sun that was about to rise streamed over her bed. Forcing herself out of the basking moment, Carrie swung her legs over the bed.

Finding her clothes, she quickly slipped into a deep blue dress, cut with a square neck and half sleeves. She wore dark blue leggings beneath, and over was an elbow-lengthed, parrot green shawl. A large pink ribbon tied the shawl together, and held up two ringed blades at her side.

She was careful to keep the Blue Crescent Moon pendant tucked into her dress, and Cornell's cloak tight around her. _I can't be this homesick already…_

Swinging a small traveling bag over her shoulder, Carrie strode out of the room wearing the most convincing mask of confidence than she ever had.

* * *

As she stepped into the crisp dawn air, Carrie was greeted by the soft whistling of a flute. The music pranced over the dewy grass, springing up and soaring down, only to bounce again. Well played indeed, the musician flowed with the tunes effortlessly.

Stepping more quietly now, Carrie followed the sound until she was led to the decorative granite boulders sitting on the front lawn.

To her surprise, she saw the green clad stranger sitting atop the tallest stone, instrument in hand. His eyes remained closed with soft tranquility—Carrie doubted he even realized she was standing nearby. Not wanting to interrupt, and hesitant to leave, Carrie took a few steps closer and stood perfectly still behind the boulder, taking in the melody.

Without her realizing it, the music slowly faded to stop. Tilting slightly where she stood, Carrie saw the young man still sitting there, instrument to his lips.

_What is he—?_

"You can come out you know," the stranger said suddenly. Carrie gave a start; she hadn't realized he sensed her presence.

The young man spun around on the boulder, tucking what looked like a blue instrument into his bag. Looking up at Carrie, he frowned slightly.

"Something wrong?" he asked curiously. Carrie shook her head slightly. After she'd jumped at his acknowledgment, she had remained rooted to the spot. He leaned back on his palms and gave her a funny look.

"Why were you hiding there?" he inquired, not accusingly. Self fading back in, Carrie snapped,

"I wasn't hiding. I just happened to be standing somewhere where you couldn't see me."

She could have sworn a ghost of a smirk played on the young man's lips. Biting it back, he asked casually,

"What are you doing out here?"

"I dunno. Couldn't I ask you the same?" she responded dully. The young man rolled his eyes, but his demeanor remained pleasant. Carrie had the faintest suspicious he was trying to make up for the rough foot they started on.

"I was playing my ocarina; happy?"

"Well I was about to leave; _happy_?" Carrie moved forwards, heading around the granite boulder. _As if it matters._ As she passed him, she heard the young man call out,

"Where are you going at this hour of the morning?" Carrie stopped but did not turn around. Contemplating the answer in her head, Carrie replied,

"I'm off to the forest—I have things to do, and people are waiting for me." She heard a soft thud of boots on grass, and turned to see the young man leaning against his boulder.

_He is a strange one…_when she had been listening to him play, he had sounded years older than his age. But from the way he had been sprawled out against the boulder, his innocent questions…he seemed almost childish.

"If you're heading out to the docks, wouldn't you like some company?" The familiar scowl found its way back to Carrie's face.

"Why would I need anyone to come along?"

"I never said you _needed_ anyone—"

"Well that's what you made it sound like—"

"I only offered because I have to get heading out as well!" the young man cut in, exasperated once more. "If you don't want it then that's all right, but I'm leaving now as well regardless." The young man scooped up his bag off the top of the boulder and began walking forward. After he passed her, a shard of guilt pierced Carrie, leaving a soft prick.

_Dammit all…_

"Sorry," she said aloud, the guilt not strong enough for her to raise her voice. _This is the second time I've apologized to him in the span of a few hours…_Carrie hung her head. There was only one other person really who Carrie would willingly apologize too on a frequent basis…

"Don't worry about it," the young man's voice came. He paused in unlocking the gate, turning to face her. This time a soft grin was evident. "Are you going to come along?"

…_Cornell._ That was who he reminded her faintly. When he had snapped at her back in the common room, when he was quick to repair his own actions…and just like Cornell, this young man forgave easily. They weren't exactly alike; Carrie didn't know him enough to make that judgment, but definitely similar.

Boots crushing blades of grass below her, Carrie made her way to the gate.

* * *

The sun was slowly starting to rise against the horizon—the soft colours barely visible over the tops of the foreboding trees in the Forest of Silence. A light mist hung around the base of trees, shrouding them in mystery.

Carrie found herself grateful for some company as she made her way through the cursed forest. Beside her, Link kept a regular survey over the landscape around them.

_Link…such a strange name. _He hadn't thought so—he had told it to her with complete confidence. It had been right after they left the gates that he introduced himself; as just _Link_. No last name, no clan, no house…it was the strangest thing. She had, in turn, named herself as Carrie Fernandez of Winde Village, of course…she had been tempted to add, _Hunter of the Night_ onto her name, but decided against it.

Find Beth, rescue the children that had been taken by the demons…these were her goals. Before going to sleep yesterday, Carrie had reviewed everything that had happened. It hadn't taken long to decide that facing the Prince was something she did not intend to do—demons were bad enough.

She was Carrie Fernandez, Child Hunter. _No wait…_Carrie Fernandez, Child Rescuer…_Beth isn't a child though…_Carrie Fernandez, Heroine of—

"—so who's this everyone that's waiting for you, Carrie?" Link asked from beside her.

"Er—well…" _If I trusted you I'd tell you the truth…_Carrie thought bitterly inside. _But you _did_ say he reminded you of Cornell…then…do I trust him…?_

"I'm not actually heading to the docks I'm—" Carrie said this all very fast in case she changed her mind half way through. It hadn't worked though; she'd still cut herself off.

Link turned his head around at her, waiting in silence for her to finish. Stopping her tread, she dropped her gaze to the forest floor.

"Some of the village children have been taken by the demons that roam the lands back home…" she began. "We think that they were brought here."

"So you want to find them? Rescue them?" Link asked curiously. Carrie nodded, waiting for him to laugh. She was surprised when she heard him say,

"You know, I'm out to save someone myself. If I don't hurry, they'll be taken in by the night as well." Eyes drifting towards the never ending line of trees in front of them, that was as much as Link told.

Intrigued, Carrie inquired, "Who was taken from you?" She thought she heard him mutter,

"No one yet." But she could not be sure. Carrie shook it off, and said to Link,

"Well, so I'm heading up towards Castlevania. I don't think you'll want to accompany that far anyways, so I guess this is where we part ways—"

"Wait!" Link interrupted. "I…I need to get to this Castlevania as soon as possible as well. But…I'm not from around here. At all…so…"

"So you want to come along with me?" Carrie finished for him.

"Well, yes, but—"

"Do you really think I should bring a strange man I barely know with me into the inner depths of a forest all by myself?" she demanded from him sharply. Link looked up, startled.

"No! I would _never_...that's not what…_how_ could… think such a thing…" Flustered, Link fell into silence, slightly pink. Sour suspicion melting, Carrie had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. Gaze fallen to the ground, Link didn't even see.

"Fine," Carrie responded after restraining her laughter. Looking up, Link watched her cautiously. "I take you as far as the Castle Wall, and then you're on your own." _Assuming you even find your way…shut up,_ Carrie snapped angrily to herself. Grateful, Link began walking again.

"So then…where are we heading first?"

"Er…"

_Dammit._

_This may take longer then planned._

Link turned around again waiting for a response, though this time he gave her another funny look.

* * *

**A/N: **YAY it's DONE! I'm so happy that took _forever…_I'm so sorry. I would like to say to you guys I promise the next chapter will be up sooner, but we both know that whatever I say most likely won't happen…I'm not a liar! I'm just disorganized, I swear! But anywho…how's this: I promise to _try _to get done faster… 


	9. A Knightly Quest

**Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**A/N: **Yay it's here… here at last. :) Enjoy.

Btw, I didn't bother following Forest of Silence as a replica from the game.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Castlevania or Zelda. Konami and Nintendo reserve that right.

* * *

_**Chapter Nine: A Knightly Quest**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**DAY TWO: MORNING**_

The flames of the angrily burning fire scowled at Henry, mirroring his expression. _How could the Church even _authorize…_ they can't… _

After Father Michael's declaration, the knights had dispersed to gather their equipment.

Cornell and Henry stood amongst them, not ready to leave but afraid to remain still for too long.

Shadows dancing across his face, he did not turn to face Cornell as they spoke.

"You understand, or not?" Cornell demanded quietly from his companion.

"Understood, _Sir_," Henry growled. "But that doesn't mean I like it."

Cornell sighed. "Neither do I, but this is the best we've got, considering what exactly we're up against."

"But she could get hurt—"

"We put her in even more danger by stepping out. And you_ know_ that."

Lacking response, Henry settled back on his scowl instead. _Whether I agree or not, Cornell is the only authority I can count on right now. _The Church had let him down, Sir Samuel—_well I never liked him to begin with…_

Almost on cue, a clatter of clanking beside them marked the arrival of the cause for all of the chaos bestowed on them.

"Why, hello _Captain _Cornell," a soft sneer rolled off Sir Samuel's lips. Shifting his steadfast gaze on to Sir Samuel, Henry said nothing at the lack of recognition. A soft challenge appeared on his face when Sir Samuel added a nod to Henry. "Oldrey."

"Why was I not informed of this beforehand?" Cornell snapped authoritatively at Sir Samuel.

"How was I to overrule the authority of the Church?" Sir Samuel responded with a pathetic excuse for sympathy plastered on his face.

"The _Church_?" Cornell frowned. "Explain how this came about."

"I'd like to damn well find out as well," Sir Henry supported. "Any matter that concerns the knights has to be passed through a Captain."

Lip curling slightly at the dictum, Sir Samuel managed to smirk slightly.

"Perhaps it's best you leave that in the hands of the Church then. Let them decide how to view your clear disrespect for the decisions of the Lord." As Sir Samuel turned to leave, he added maliciously, "And I must say, you're quite right Oldrey. Which is why I'm the one in charge here…and I assure you everything was indeed passed through me."

Leaving behind two blanked knights, Sir Samuel strode away; scarved in sheer complacency.

* * *

"So, is this just something to distract us?" Henry growled bitterly. After Sir Samuel had left them, Father Michael began to approach Cornell and Henry . _He's letting on far too much…_Cornell resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Henry would get them all killed if he kept up this attitude.

"Dear Lord Oldrey," Father Michael pleaded, "You have been cursed. You must understand this. I am presenting you a chance to redeem yourself and free yourself from her wicked ways." From the corner of his eye, Cornell saw Henry stiffen.

"We are more than willing to take up the task Father," Cornell cut in quickly. "How many men will you provide to aid us?" Father Michael smiled appreciatively.

"Many are needed in order to find the Witch…but I think, we should be able to spare a good eight," he responded.

Cornell nodded, and gripping Henry by the elbow they turned to leave.

* * *

Breathing heavily, Felix pushed his ash blond hair from his eyes. Entering the Orphanage, he continued to support Beth through the doorway. Tri followed behind, sheathing the weapon he'd had out the entire time back from the woods.

The house was in much better condition now; no doubt Ada and the Orphans had been hard at work putting everything together. Gently, he stepped onto the rug lying on the hallway, making as little noise as possible.

"Don't worry about it," Traian said suddenly from behind him. "I think everyone's upstairs." To back his words, Tri did a quick scouting of the first floor. True to his words, Tri signaled that no one was to be found. Felix shrugged in response, one arm still supporting Beth.

_Bloody Hell… she's got to be even more tired than me._

Her breath was coming out in slow, trying breaths. Felix could feel her whole body rack as she attempted to stay upright. Tri had taken notice too; stepping forwards, he relieved his friend of the extra weight.

"Beth," he asked softly. "Do you want to go upstairs? You need the rest." Leaning her head against Tri, she nodded faintly. Felix rolled his eyes, _as if he can do anything anyway, injured the way he is. _Felix stepped back up, and summoning the last of his strength, swung her up into his arms. Halfway up the stairs, Beth asked breathlessly,

"Carrie…" she began. Felix swallowed hard. _You knew this was coming…_ "…is, is she upstairs as well? Did she escape the burning?" Felix looked back over his shoulder at Tri briefly.

"Well, she escaped the burning," Felix offered, knowing Tri would not begin.

Tri nodded in agreement behind them, adding, "And she was here at the Orphanage, all safe and sound… she even yelled at me for getting this eyepatch." Beth laughed softly.

"So then… everything's okay with her, right?" there was a note of anxiety in her tone however.

"Umm…" Tri stumbled, waiting for his friend to take the place.

"She's gone," Felix blurted, not knowing a better way to present such information to her. _How am I supposed to tell someone that their best friend just ran away into the Forest? _Beth started in Felix's arm, causing the young man to shake slightly. Behind him, he heard Tri steady himself should the pair collapse downwards.

"You can't be… serious…" Turning her head, Beth looked Felix straight in the eye. He nodded silently. Desperately, she turned her eyes to the young man behind them. Tri nodded grimly as well.

Lacking words, Felix felt Beth become slump in his arms.

They brought her all the way upstairs, and turned the corner to the room she had beside Carrie's. Entering the neatly kept room, Felix placed her gently on the bed. After checking her head wound and tucking her in, the pair left quietly out the door.

The two young men were both exhausted from the day's event, and as Felix parted ways with Tri to his own room, he felt sleep creep in. _It's been a long day, and there's only so much more to do…_

Reaching his unkept room, Felix collapsed on his bed, not bothering to undress.

_Tomorrow's just another day away._

_Another day for Carrie to slip just abit farther…_

Squeezing his eyes shut, Felix tried to shut off his mind.

* * *

They spoke not a word until they had reached the Orphanage. As soon, as they were inside, Cornell dictated to Henry to remain in the kitchen as he left to find Ada.

Passing through the hallway, Cornell stopped by the Common Room. Traian lay sleeping on his cot by the fire, too injured to move. Felix had pulled up a cot nearby, and was snoring peacefully. _At least they tired out eventually. _With all the commotion of the attack, Carrie's burning—_attempted burning, she's fine now—_and the children's disappearances, Cornell had fear they would never get a chance to rest.

Creeping through the silent house, he stopped when he reached Ada and Henry's bedroom. Slipping inside, he gently shook his younger sister from her sleep. Not that she had made herself comfortable on the bed. She was lying sprawled out over her oak desk, maps of the forest spread out beneath her arms. Her silvery hair was undone and hung loose around her pale face; both looked worn from the day's events. Strain pressed against her face as she shuffled uncomfortable as she slept—incoherent muttering slipped through tightly pressed lips. Forehead creasing in stress, Cornell knew she would sense his presence soon.

Eyelids fluttering open, Ada started when she saw her brother.

"Cornell!" she gasped. "Oh Cornell! I had the most awful nightmare…you had gone to the Church and they had accused you and Henry and burned you both and I thought you were never coming home…" Leading the slightly hysterical young woman down the hall, Cornell wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"It's okay," he offered gently. "Everything will work out fine; just wait."

Clinging to him tightly under his arms, Ada silently acknowledged his reassurance.

As they approached the kitchen, Cornell settled her down on a chair by Henry. Henry took over for Cornell and wrapped his arms comfortingly around the still waking Ada.

"Ada," Henry began softly, one hand stroking her hair, "the Church wants to bring Carrie back to Winde Village. Doesn't matter to them how."

Cornell saw Ada tense and pull away from her husband.

"Are you two part of this?" She asked, eyes glistening. Cornell shook his head.

"Father Michael sympathizes with the _curse_ that she's put on us."

"So…you two can stay here with me?"

"No; he had a different task for us. One I think you'll be happy to hear."

* * *

_**DAY TWO: MORNING**_

The wisps of fog sank down upon the two travelers', breathing kisses down their bare necks. Shuddering, they continued on their way through the gloomy forest, stepping through a tattered carpet of leaves and over logs that were being devoured by death itself. It was early morning now, and the sunrays were leaking out onto the canopy of the Forest of Silence, spills of an assortment of paints over a vast canvass. Trickles of the paint trailed to the forest floor, leaving soft speckles of colour in a largely oblique forest.

_Was it not so dead in here…it could be beautiful._

Carrie rolled her stiff shoulder in an attempt to bring about warmth to her rapidly frosting body. The only thing preventing the morning dew from seeping onto her feet were the sturdy leather traveling boots she donned. Cornell's stiff cloak kept her warm enough, and the leggings she was wearing were thick enough to provide some comfort.

Her companion too, looked as though he was snug enough…he too bore a thick cloak that overrode his forest green tunic and white underclothes. Leading the way—though not by much—he would occasionally check back on her to see if she was following. It would, after all, be all too easy to lose oneself in this god forsaken forest.

"Are you all right?" Link called back to her, pausing briefly to allow her to catch up. Carrie grimaced and picked up her pace, sending mud flying as she did.

"I'm here and alive, aren't I?" Carrie demanded, shaking the sludge off her booted foot. Shaking his head, Link gave an incoherent reply. Passing him, Carrie did not look back when she carefully said,

"I don't really know where I'm going by the way." She was careful to keep her eyes locked firmly ahead. _Dammit all …_ Carrie didn't like talking to someone like Cornell who _wasn't_ Cornell. It didn't make any sense.

Turning her head, she gave Link a shoddy glare.

"So? It's not my fault, so don't even try—"

"I never said anything!" Link cut in, exasperated. This was not the first time she had reacted acerbically towards the young man. Carrie did not, however, have any intention to stop.

Link stopped walking where he was. Seeing him summon her with his hand, Carrie wondered back to him.

"All right…so you may not know where we go. That's fine, in a forest such as this I don't think anyone would. But the only way we'll figure out where we're going is if we work out _some_ sort of plan." He raised his eyebrows expectantly at her.

Biting back the urge to respond snappishly, Carrie answered as calmly as she could,

"I don't know."

Link turned away from her with a groan, wondering towards the edge of the roughly cut path. Eyes grazing the forest floor, Carrie gave a start when he crouched over. Frowning, she walked over to him.

"Umm…Link…?" Link did not respond however, and studied the ground. "_Link_, what is it?" She peered over his shoulder and jerked her head back at the sight. Sweeping his hand down, Link turned around to look her earnestly in the eye.

"Carrie…" He began, lifting his hand. Standing up, Link pushed his fingers onto her palm.

Like a beast from Holy Water, Carrie leapt back from the liquid dribbling off Link's fingers.

A strangled cry escaped her.

"_Blood_!"

Blood, deep, crimson, thick, bursting, blood … it was everywhere. It stained her arms in the Woods by the orphanage; it ran down her face at the Village Square, racing tears; it seeped through Tri's bandages on the Common Room floor…

"Carrie?" Link asked quietly. "Are you all right?"

Carrie caught herself shaking her head slowly, and quickly interrupted with a nod.

"Yes…" the word slithered past her voice and rode her breath as she spoke. Injecting strength into her words. "Yes, I'm…I'm fine. It's just blood, who really—it's not like—I mean … it's fine." Link continued to hold his penetrating gaze on her, but said nothing. Shifting her feet away from him, Carrie arrived at the place where he had crouched. "I … do you think that maybe it belongs…"

"I don't know."

Carrie turned to face him, and Link continued,

"But it's still warm. Whatever died here died very recently." Carrie nodded. Link rubbed the blood between his two fingers, a frown creasing his forehead. Suppressing both a shudder and outcry, Carrie's eyes slid from Link to the forest floor.

"We'd best be moving," Link offered quietly. "The last thing we need is to join them." He shook the blood off his hands and wondered ahead, sword unsheathed. Turning back, he motioned silently for her to follow.

Silently, Carrie obeyed, tugging Cornell's cloaks in around her tighter. Her hand subconsciously found its way to the Blue Crescent Moon pendant still hanging around her neck.

She could have sworn the wind was caressing her with their discovery.

* * *

One foot after the other, Link led the way through the desolate forest. _Hardly leading though…_ Link hadn't the faintest idea as to where he was going. Following instinct was his only real option, although this was not by any means a bad one. _Still though, at least now you have some company. _

Tilting his head backwards, Link checked on his caustic companion. Her head hung; she had been quiet since Link had pointed out the blood to her. _Maybe it wasn't such a good idea…women aren't supposed to have to deal with anything violent… _And by the pits of the Canyon, that had to be violence that shed such blood. He hadn't called attention to it, but the small section of blood had been on of what looked like a trail. Had he been on his own, Link may very well have followed it.

Trying not to shudder, Link thought back to just how he had discovered the blood. The _smell. _It had been so overwhelming, so powerful…Link hadn't been able to ignore it. The sheer sensation of it had been enough to make him gag, but all the same he had followed it. _At least I hadn't needed to resist the urge to…_He cut off that train of thought quickly. He could have wanted a lot more, that was all he needed to remind himself. It was for the best he had let the blood alone.

"Ahh _dammit!_" A sharp cry ignited from behind him, the flames engulfing the silence of the forest quickly.

_Then again, it might have been her to pursue such a trail._

Turning around, Link inspected for the problem to present itself. Though he had only been with her for a few hours, already she had proven to be the pessimist. Anything, from a change in wind speed to the fumble over a pebble patch was enough to make her swear aloud. He had noted though, that whether he turned to check or not, she kept going forwards, albeit grumbling all the way.

Taking a few strides back to her, Link grasped her arm. She had indeed tripped over one of the fallen logs, blanketed by a thick rug of soggy leaves. Link frowned as his bangs whipped across his face; the harsh winds ought to have relinquished the leaves' hold.

As he had expected, Carrie shoved his hand away from him and continued to struggle to ascension herself. All the same, Link remained beside her. It wouldn't be a surprise if she collapsed all over again.

He wasn't sure just what exactly was wrong. She had seemed perfectly agile during the fight on the shoreline..._not even a girl can be worn out from something like that, can she? _Link felt yet another frown crease his head. Over the past few weeks, his ignorance of the opposite gender was beginning to catch up with him.

No…he did not think that it had anything to do with her femininity. Afterwards, she had had far more cuts and bruises than she should have, considering he had done most of the fighting. _Something had to have gone on before that…_

"When did you get to the shoreline?" Link asked suddenly. Carrie had managed to upright herself, all though she sat back down on the enemy log afterwards.

"Yesterday night. Early this morning. I don't know." He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Link sighed and sat down next to her on the log.

"You know, if we keep taking breaks like this we'll never make any progress." He was surprised a sharp retort did not ensue after his words.

"Sorry." A mumbled response came from the girl. "I'll stop. Stop resting that is—not stop moving, I…" Her confused words wrought their own path, away from Link's comprehension. Cocking his head to the side, Link offered,

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to insult you or anything. Just…nevermind. It's fine, rest now so we can make stronger process when you're ready." Carrie nodded without looking him in the eye.

A painful throb in his neck reminded him that they _did not _have that much time, but Link carefully chose to ignore it. He would get no where without Carrie leading the way…

…_she doesn't even know where she's going. _

_But you can't just abandon her to go ahead. _What harm could it do to keep her around anyway?

_Don't be foolish—if you aren't fast enough, it could do her a whole lot of harm._

_And she doesn't even know…_

He could, he contemplated, attempt to convince her to return back to the Inn and just accompany her there. He would move forwards faster after that, were he by himself.

_Do you _want _to be traipsing through this forest by yourself?_

Reaching into his bag, Link pulled out his Ocarina. Instinctively, the first song that ran through his fingers was his horse's calling.

No response.

Not that it particularly mattered…_if she hasn't responded before, then there's no way in all the fires of Din's arms that she's going to now._

In an effort to fend off the seeping silence, Link brought the Ocarina back to his lips to play again. A quick pincer on his elbow cried for him to stop. Puzzled, Link looked over at Carrie. Silently she pressed a finger to her lips.

She stood up, shaking somewhat. Weariness seemed to be plaguing her bones with every minute that passed. Getting to his feet, Link steadied her. Once again she pushed him away, but nothing more hostile reached him on her behalf.

"What is it?" Link asked softly as she stepped forwards. Grimacing, Carrie, listened intently to the surrounding woods. They had reached a palpable clearing in the forest, surrounded by grotesque trees. In front of them and before them was a continuing thicket of forest, but to either side was open space. Tucking his Ocarina away, Link wondered forwards. A light, magenta mist harassed the cool air of the forest, sagging close to the forest floor yet seemingly fighting to reach the top. _But why does it hang only to our sides? _Link thought to himself, befuddled. Reaching a hand out, Link continued; the smell of the mist intriguing. A light stinging sensation ran up his nostrils, and a powerful stench of putrid breath accompanied it.

"Link…what…" Carrie's voice was lost to him.

The silvery essence was bounding off the sheer magenta, catching the little sunlight…

"…you have to…" He could not hear her.

The swirls chased and tackled each other, children playing some unknown game…

"…_Link!_" He felt a strong grasp on the collar of his tunic, the leverage pushing him backwards onto his bottom. Fiercely shaking his head, Link ran his hand through straw blonde bangs.

"What did I…what was that…"

"_What's wrong with you?_" Carrie snapped vehemently. Confusion marring his features, Link looked up at her. "That's a _cliff_ Link. People _fall. _Over _cliffs. _You were going to _fall over the cliff._" Link pushed himself carefully to his feet. Taking her turn, Carrie helped to steady him.

The sensation had been so _compelling_…he'd never experienced it before. Everything, the sight, the sound, the smell…Link had been dying to know what it would have _felt _like…

"Are you…" Carrie squinted her eyes inquisitively at him, "okay?"

Raising his hands to his face, Link saw he was shaking slightly. Stammering only slightly, Link responded,

"Yes."

Noticing her expectant expression, Link added, "I just thought…there was something strange…about that mist yonder."

"What mist Link?" Carrie asked incredulously. Startled, he looked up again. Yes, it was still there. Faintly.

"Can't you see it?"

Carrie shook her head. Link grabbed Carrie's arm and lead her towards it. _I am _not _insane. I still have almost three days till that happens. I _know_ what I'm seeing._

Watching the forest floor, Link saw what she meant. The forest floor ended adruptly with a cracked edge, and a deep fall below. Carrie scowled in annoyance at him,

"Well obviously I can see it _now_. It so faint though…you must have the eyes of a bloody hawk." _But I don't, _Link thought. _I never could have seen that before…but it's even stronger now. _

A thought struck Link.

"What had…why did you silence me before?"

Carrie shook her head absently. "I thought I had heard something from down here…but Link…look!" She motioned over the cliff.

Stepping to the barest edge of the cliff, Link peered over the edge.

There lay the answer to the strange magenta mist that clung to the forest air.

Below, acidic purple waters thrashed, sending up thick clouds of the smoke. Now even closer, one deep breath told Link what lie beneath them…

"…Carrie, get back! Don't breathe in too much of the poison!"

"But if it's poison, I could have swore…someone's down there Link! Their probably dying as we speak!" Link groaned. He could not leave now, hearing Carrie's words. But on the other hand…

"Carrie, we can't go down there!" he cried out. "You're already fatigued, there's no way you'd handle a climb down!" Angrily she opened her mouth, but finding no argument, said nothing.

"Well we can't just _leave_!" She protested.

"I know that!" Link complied. "So I'll go climb down there and check out whatever you think you heard—"

"—I _did _hear something—"

"—I'll check out what you _heard_, and you stay right here. Understand?" Link raised his eyebrows at her, awaiting the objection.

"But I don't _want_ to just stand here and wait, like some helpless bloody child; oh don't look at me like that Link…I think I should come…" Seeing his resolute expression, Carrie sighed. "_Fine_. I'll _stay._"

Link looked at her firmly, crossing his arms. Carrie sighed again, louder. Saying nothing, she went back to the log and collapsed on it. "See? I'm waiting…now just hurry up and _go_." Link nodded. Turning away, Link pulled a handkerchief from his bag. He secured it around his face, effectively covering his nose and mouth.

Swinging on leg over the cliff, Link groped about with his leg until his foot rested in a crevice. One after the other, Link made his way down in a slow descent, praying he would not soon be swimming in the purple abyss below.

* * *

The soggy leaves below him groped his sabotons, natural suction cups. Slipping his feet out the mud, the knight readjusted his metal helmet with a shake of his head. He could not ride his horse this far into the Forest of Silence—the weight would leave both sitting ducks in this accursed place.

He had been here for a mere few hours, and had just split up with his party. They had assumed by spreading out they would indeed cover more ground. So far the knight had seen little else than misshapen trees, had heard nothing but stony silence.

Treading carefully, the man unsheathed his sword and began hacking at overgrown weeds that impaired his pathway. _Besides, _he thought angrily to himself as he hacked a particularly large plant away, _who knows what's hiding in these bloody woods._

* * *

Tapping her toe to the ground, Carrie knocked the dirt of her leather brown boots. Anxiously, she watched the cliff until Link's head disappeared fully below the edge. _I'm supposed to sit here…_

Jumping to her feet, Carrie strode over to the edge of the cliff. Lying flat on her stomach, Carrie propped her head over the edge. A bobbing green cap told Carrie that Link was well concentrated on finding his way down the cliff.

Sliding to her knees, Carrie pushed herself upright. _I'm sure there's _some_thing I can do while he's down there. _And judging but what she'd seen, it'd take him a long time to get all the way to the bottom. In that time, she could have explored a little of the path ahead, and be back before he even missed her.

Mind resolute, Carrie turned away from the cliff and made her way to the rugged path that Link and her had been travelling on. Before she left however, she found a sturdy stick nearby. As best she could, Carrie scrawled a note for link in the mud.

_Gone exploring. Be back soon._

Chucking the stick back into the forest, Carrie flipped the hood of Cornell's cloak back up. Not that there was much of the point, the winds had picked up again and pushed the hood back down.

One hand over the pendant, Carrie delved back into the forest.

* * *

Yet again, Link's bag whipped across and smacked him against the legs. _Dammit…maybe bringing it with me wasn't such a good idea. _He could just leave it with Carrie. He trusted her enough—and even if he didn't, having it with a living being was better than risking dropping it in the death water below him. He hadn't made it that far down; with all of his strength, he forced himself upwards again. With staggering might, Link hurled himself topside and back to the edge of the cliff.

Looking up, Link let out a cry of frustration.

Carrie, it seemed, had either left on her own, or worse yet, been kidnapped by some wild creature of this forest.

_No…if she was abducted I would have heard her scream. She would have run to me._

But then again, the creature could have silenced her before even giving her a chance to fight back.

Or maybe she really had just left, and was on her own. _Either way then, something's bound to find her…_

…_well how will you? _Link mentally biraded himself for ever leaving her there by herself. She'd already proven headstrong and reckless from her behavior at the Inn…_did you really expect her to just stay put? _But she was already exhausted, Link argued. She doesn't have the energy to keep walking, but as soon as I'm gone she's up and left?

But wait, if she was tired, then it would have made her more vulnerable to attacks.

_Argh…by what tides of the Ocean did I deserve this?_

However, Carrie was not Link's responsibility, he reminded himself. There was no reason to worry about her.

She had agreed to help him, and had proved useless at that. He was worried for her of course, and had she been around, he would have taken care of her…_I can't be expected to run around and chase after her._

_But what if she really was kidnapped? Then she'll be waiting for someone…_

"Stop it," Link snapped fiercely to himself. "Just bloody stop it."

Swinging his legs back over the edge, Link continued to make his way down. He would deal with one issue at a time.

* * *

_**DAY TWO: AFTERNOON**_

It had to be noon by now, although it was impossible to tell the strength of the sunlight through the canopy of leaves above her. It had have been that long. Carrie couldn't even remember where exactly she had left Link at the cliff. _I didn't _leave _though…I'll go back…eventually…_sure, another voice contradicted, how?

_Shut up. _

Weariness had taken its aggravating toll on her, making each step a labour, each breath scorch her lungs and each heartbeat a wild thrash against her chest. Perhaps setting out after a few hours sleep was _not_ such a good idea. Before, thinking about the events of the day past had fatigued her. Now, she could barely remember.

Forcing one foot after the other, Carrie inwardly moaned at the soreness building in her legs. She was not _meant _for this sort of endurance. A few games of tag with the children in the afternoon heat was the worst she'd ever experienced until yesterday.

Just when she came to wonder when exactly this would end, up ahead she saw a defined clearing.

Energy renewed, Carrie picked up her pace. Fighting her way against the clutches of the tree branches, Carrie saw a tall mound above a granite block lining. The small stone wall surrounding the statue was surrounded by marble plates in the ground around it, creating a perfect square.

Approaching the granite wall, Carrie sat upon it. She looked up and to one side was the path continuing into more forest; to the other side was another cliff leading to the death water below, and to the last side was a solid, metal gate.

The gate rose high above the ground, not unlike the gates to a villa, or a castle even. Getting up, Carrie pressed against the bars. They did not budge an inch. However, upon studying the gates Carrie found no traces of keyholes or padlocks…_maybe their just stuck? _They did look worn. _Who knows how long they've been here? _

After a few minutes of pressing her weight against the bars, Carrie collapsed on the ground before it. _This is ridiculous. Why don't you just continue through the forest? _Through the bars, Carrie could see a clear path though, and, if she looked hard enough, a few small white buildings.

_Dammit all…_the prospect of surpassing the gate was far more inviting then continuing to travel in the forest, a bleak search ending in circles it seemed. Resting her palms against the ground, Carrie started when she felt a slow moving rumble.

_What the…_

It quickly began to pick up pace however.

What began as a tremor…

… _what's happening?_

Jumping to her feet, Carrie readied herself.

Utter shock enveloped her when the gate swung open.

Startled, but refusing to allow it to overcome her, Carrie picked herself up off the forest floor and entered the gate before it could close.

The gate had not opened all the way; Carrie was only just able to fit in past the iron bars. Beyond, the path was by far clearer then what she had previously seen. Trees did not swarm past so far in as to obscure her vision; their branches did not hang down, waiting for the unwary trespasser. Mud still blanketed the ground however, wounded from yesterday's rain. Up ahead, the small white buildings stood silently. From what Carrie could see, not another living soul was in sight.

_Well, at least I've proven something…just wait till Link gets back._

_You_, she reminded herself, _have to get back as well then_.

Perhaps she had been gone for long enough now. It had to have been more than enough time for Link to have gone down and up the cliff. She hadn't realised it, but as she had examined the surrounding her feet had carried her onwards.

Turning, Carrie made her way to leave.

_There's got to be something in this place to make it worth coming this far._

* * *

His foot reaching the final hold, Link used the strength of his worn out upper body to swing around onto solid ground. Somewhere along the bitter descent down, he's spotted a tunnel opening in the cliff before him. He had temporarily pushed Carrie from his mind, and had decided that investigating whatever lie down here on her behalf was best. If she were taken, she'd be long gone by now. If she had up and left, then he would let her leave.

Shaking his head free of creeping thoughts, Link made his way down the tunnel. The entrance was quite large, but as he moved on the passage became narrower. It was not a cave; rock was present, but dirt held the tunnel together. Readjusting the handkerchief around his face, Link ignored the dizzying sensation that threatened to overtake him.

One hand pressed against the dirt walls, Link made his way in a slight upwards slope in the hill.

Then, softly, he could hear something.

It could not have been what Carrie had heard, for it was far too quiet. A soft, muffled sounding sob.

_Be careful…remember what happened last time you were too considerate of children…_his neck gave him a painful throb as an extra reminder.

Tentatively, he continued forwards. First one foot, toe down…

…heel down…

…toe down…

… heel down…

_Crack._

Something beneath his feet snapped, sending a rippling noise throughout like a pebble in a pond.

The sobbing came to a sudden halt.

"Who—who's there?" a boy's voice asked, panicked.

Cursing himself, Link picked up his pace so that he could see the body of the voice.

A young boy sat in front of him, dusty red hair adorning a pale face. The boy was shivering slightly; he wore only simple brown trousers and a green shirt. Stepping forwards, Link crouched down in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gently, suspicion replaced by mere wariness.

"I… they came, the creatures, and took us here…" he began stuttering slightly, looking at Link with wide-eyed fear. "And then… some of us got free, but I—when I ran I was all alone… they came at me… so I… ran."

"And came to hide in this tunnel?" Link inquired. The boy nodded in response. "How did you find it?"

"It's a secret door," the boy said, "I ran into a building, and I was scared…I panicked and found this tunnel." It was Link's turn to nod in acknowledgement.

Getting up, Link dusted himself off from the dirt on his leggings. The young boy grasped Link's tunic and tugged gently.

"There's one more thing sir," he breathed. Link cocked his head toward him. "I… along the way… I saw something. It looked like a lever. I didn't know what it did though, and I was too scared to push it." Link nodded, then got up and turned away.

"Come on," he offered the young boy.

"I… I can't."

"What?" Link replied. "Why not?" Motioning to his leg, Link understood what the boy meant. Link hissed sharply at the state of it. A dark splattering of blood painted the boy's canvas of trousers.

"What happened to you?" Link asked softly, gingerly pressing examining the boy's leg. The boy's lip shook slightly.

"I… they came after me."

"Who?" Link persisted. "Who came after you?"

"_Them…_ the demons… the person in the cloak… they came… I—I was scared! I tried to—but I—they—" Words utterly failing him, the young boy burst into sobs that wracked his frail body. Link came over beside the boy and wrapped one arm around him.

_Careful; remember what happened last time you found a sobbing child. _

Link fought the urge to pull away from the weeping boy, the sharp piercing to the neck still burned fresh into his mind… _but the poor boy is sobbing… he's not… all the children can't _possibly _be evil… _

Snapping his mind shut, Link scooped the young boy up off the ground and cradled him over two arms. Careful to mind the wounded leg, Link carried him throughout the rest of the tunnel. Few minutes had passed before Link saw what the young boy had mentioned before: a lever stood in front of him, held steady by a short pillar connected to the ground of the tunnel.

Setting the boy down gently, Link made a move towards the lever.

_How do you know that's a good idea…?_

…_I don't_, Link retorted at himself. _Like that's ever stopped me before. _Placing a hand on the copper lever, Link prepared to pull it down before the boy interrupted,

"Shouldn't we be more careful? Something might go seriously wrong…"

Turning around, Link offered a reassuring response, "Well, we'll never know until we try, right?" The boy shrugged absently, but Link's airy words had not swept the anxiety from the boy's face.

Pressing down with all his might, Link felt the lever slide downwards.

Had he not been holding onto the lever, Link would have fallen off his feet.

The whole tunnel had begun to shake—from ceiling to floor. Dirt collapsed from the ceilings and struck Link, blinding him. Turning, Link used what little vision he could to find the boy and pull him into a bear hug. Tucking the boy's face into his chest and wrapping one arm over the boy's inflicted leg, Link prayed silently the shaking would stop.

As though once again, the forest could hear his thoughts, the shaking abruptly stopped.

Raising his head, Link shook himself free of any dirt that had settled on him. He got off of the child, and swept any dirt off of him as well.

"I told you so," came a mumbled chastisement from the boy.

Link sighed and scooped the boy up once again. The faster they got themselves out of this tunnel, the safer they would both be. The cracked walls gave off the impression of shattered strength, and the ceiling regularly rained clumps of dirt on the two.

_There is no way, _Link thought as he adjusted the boy in his arms, _this place is going to last. _

As they walked past the lever, Link shot it a dirty look. For once, every failure on this mission seemed to be his to blame… there was some strange solace in hating this land.

_The faster I get out of here, the better for everyone._

Three days to cure himself, maybe another day to find a way out of this _Walachia _and that left him with… _five days to make it back to Hyrule in time for the ceremony._ Link felt his heart sink a little. Leaving nine days early had felt a little late for Link back when he had left Termina…

… _ha, back when I left Termina. By the Goddesses, that feels like a lifetime ago. _It was hard to believe that just over a day had passed since the bomb skeleton had stunned Epona; just over a day had passed since Link had fallen down that forsaken cliff…

Looking up, Link realized he had come to the end of the tunnel; a small amount of light flickered through a hole up ahead. Picking up his pace, Link approached the entrance and awkwardly slithered out of it with the boy in his arms.

Once passed through the opening, Link found himself in a simple, square structure built of white marble. A scarce few torches adorned the walls, their flickering shadows explaining the light at the end of the tunnel. Four shelves lined the room: two on each side, one standing at shoulder height the other accessibly only by ladder.

But that was not what disturbed Link.

On each shelf, rested two vile boxes, the symbol of everything almost everyone feared…

…_coffins. You're surrounded by coffins…people die here. You've intruded upon a crypt. _

Link desperately wanted to put the boy down, but where? In one of the coffins, perhaps?

Link mentally beraded himself for even thinking such a thought.

Ignoring the strain in his arms, Link approached the dark door up ahead. Balancing the boy partially against the wall, Link was able to open it and step outside into the afternoon light.

Immediately, the sound of horses' hooves raced towards him, scaring away the silence as they plunged on.

_What the—_

Impaired by the boy's weight in his arm, Link was not able to stop the swish of the weapon he heard.

Thus, when he felt the flat edge of a sword smash him on the head, he was not shocked.

In fact, he felt relatively calm as he dropped the boy and saw the ground rush up to meet him.

* * *

Walking out of what had to be the hundredth crypt, Carrie scowled immensely.

"Dammit all… why isn't anything _doing_ anything?" She whined aloud. Kicking the dirt in front of her, Carrie made her way back towards the forest lining.

To her surprise, up ahead appeared to be another gap over poisoned water. However, as Carrie approached closer, two platforms held up by sturdy pillars seemed to support the way onwards.

_If I can get to the other side… there's got to be _something _over there…_

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, Carrie approached the platforms at a run. As she met the edge of the cliff, she took a flying leap towards one. Thankfully, Carrie managed to land on.

Though denied of as much space, Carrie was able to repeat the action to reach the second platform, and the ground after that.

Standing on forest floor, Carrie looked back at the stony platforms. The purply mist lingered on the floor of the platforms, lolling back and forth.

_It's hard to believe something so gentle-looking could be so toxic._

Turning, Carrie examined the forest in front of her.

Or, the lack there of.

Solid rock surrounded her, leaving a small amount of ground space availible. Two pillars stood across each other and in between was a shorter one. Making her way around, Carrie saw the center one had a copper lever attached to it.

Throwing caution to the winds, Carrie strode up and pressed down on the lever. It was heavier then expected; she had to put far more of her weight on it before it budge. Once it slid down though, Carrie started.

The rumbling had started again.

It was not as severe this time… and this time, Carrie managed to hold her ground. Once it finished, she let go of the lever and made her way back to the edge of the cliff at a run—

—before stopping herself completely. Not a trace of the two platforms remained… perhaps… _did the lever I push make them retreat?_

Backing away from the edge, Carrie thought quickly. She had to get off this tiny section of the forest; she had to make it to Castlevania. There were demons to slay and a Prince to hunt. Furious with herself for being so reckless, Carrie swivelled away from the now gaping hole between her and the forest she had come from.

_This is so stupid… I'm barely through the forest and I can't seem to do anything right… how am I going to make it to Castlevania like this? _The faces of the children from the Orphanage haunted back at her, accompanied by sickly Beth.

_You can't just let them down…_

With a start, Carrie heard a grumbling behind her.

It did not sound though, as any human would. Its voice was low and coarse, scratching the air around it and leaving Carrie's ears to bleed. Ever so slowly, Carrie turned around to face whatever had made its way up the hill.

Unleashing a furious roar, a red-skinned, utterly bald, dementedly-shaped ogre stood before her.

Letting loose another roar, the ogre swung a colossal arm at Carrie. Impulsively Carrie leapt backwards, just dodging the mighty fiend's attack. It towered over, nearly twice her height. Racing backwards, Carrie found herself pressed against the stone wall. The ogre lumbered towards her, bulky arms swinging.

It's face contorted into an expression of utmost loathing and stupidity, it took another swing at Carrie. Again, Carrie slid sideways and only just avoided it.

However, face first she found herself in front one of the pillars. Swivelling, she made to go the other direction, finding a stone wall mockingly in front of her.

_I…_

Turning, she saw the ogre approaching again.

_I don't want to… I can't… there's no way I'd win against something like…_

The ogre roared again, hunkering down on its knees and prolonging its warcry. Summoning up her strength, Carrie formed an orb in her fist. It was not very large—but it was the best she could manage on such little strength.

Popping out from behind the pillar, Carrie let loose of her orb. Fortunately, her aim was true and struck the ogre straight in the eyes. Seeing her chance, Carrie raced forwards and rolled underneath his floundering arms. Pulling out her ringed blades, Carrie rolled one over the side of the ogre.

A scream of pain ripped out of the beast.

It whipped around, and in blind rage swung its arm out once again.

Distracted with her blades, she noticed only when it's thick fingers wrapped around her ankle.

"Hey!" She screamed desperately. It was far too late.

In only a single hand, the ogre raised her into the air, hanging onto her legs. Carrie screamed, but to no avail. If anything, the more she squirmed the higher up she seemed to go.

Raising the girl to eye-level, the beast hurdled her downwards, sending her flying.

Her back skidded across the dirt ground of the forest, burning her but leaving no permanent damage. Stifling the pain, Carrie rolled back to her feet and held her ground best she could.

Anger now pumping her brain, Carrie mustered together another orb. This was by far larger then its predecessor. Gathering her strength, Carrie unleashed her orb.

The sheer surprise by which the ogre was struck was enough to knock him off his feet. Carrie saw it all before it happened, really: the ogre was struck, and blinded it fumbled about…

… slowly it stumbled towards the edge of the cliff…

… losing its footing, the ogre succumbed to the air around it and fell…

…_serves you right…_

…as its swan's song, the creature released one final cry, a mix between a frustrated roar and a pained moan.

Unable to resist feeling a bit smug, Carrie watching in relief as the platforms rose again with the defeat of the ogre.

Taking the edge once again at a run, Carrie was able to make herself back across the gap.

* * *

Groggily, Link stirred from his enforced rest. The afternoon light still tainted the dark sky gently, ready to fade at any given moment.

_So… I can't have been out that long then…_

"You!" A voice barked. Forcing himself to his feet, Link attempted to look the man in the eye.

Trying his best not to grumble, Link nodded his head dimly. Though he could not see anything, Link felt a small hand slip into his.

"Don't!"

It was the boy Link had rescued from before. He felt the boy shift defensively in front of him.

"Honestly… he helped me! He's not our enemy!"

Link grimaced; his neck had throbbed painfully.

The gruff voice replied simply, "Fine."

_I really don't need this…_

Wobbling only slightly, Link managed to take a few steps.

"Oy!" the voice called out. "Where are you going now?" Link rolled his eyes exasperatedly, back to the man. Turning slightly, Link answered briefly,

"It doesn't matter. The child is safe; I'm free to go, aren't I?" Opening his eyes, Link studied the man in front of him.

Not that there was much to study. The man was clad from head to waist with knight's armour, lackluster only because of the minimum sunlight feeding the forest. Below he wore navy blue trousers, ending in metal sabatons at his feet. Link could not make out the man's face; a knight's helmet adorned his head, visor flipped down.

The knight shook his head in annoyance.

"All right, just leave then. But can I have your name before you go?"

"Link," he threw from over his shoulder, now walking away. Up ahead, Link could make out more crypt like structures, all gathered together in huddles.

Behind him, he heard the man click his tongue in distaste. As to whether it was for the lack of response, or the rude one, Link did not particularly care. More and more he was finding himself in the company of not-so-grateful strangers, and they'd yet to end well.

_I can't waste time anyways, _Link reminded himself. _Three days…_

Losing himself in his thoughts, Link did not realize when he had reached the next crowd of crypts. Marble white buildings stood in contrast to its bleak, monochromatic surroundings. Exploring a few, Link found his search fruitless.

_What were you expecting to find, in the house of the dead? _Link shrugged.

With a start, he stopped himself. _What the—_he was losing it, that had to be it. He had been in the Goddess-forsaken, Giant-abandoned, demon enroached, pitiless, disgusting, horrid, despicable…

"Link!"

A sudden voice interrupted his down trodden thoughts. Startled Link glanced up—the sound had almost made to brighten his shadowed mind. _If that's…_

A petite figure raced towards him, clad in shades of green and a bright pink bow. It was when he saw the familiar blue hair though that Link got up from the wall he had been leaning against.

A surge of emotions rushed through, but first at foremost, this girl had it coming.

As Carrie paused in front of him, she leaned over with her hands on her knees, gasping for breath.

"Link!" she repeated breathily. "I'm sorry—I know I—but I had to, when I… I left... there was, this big—_thing!_ I—it just—I didn't…" Her sentence trailed off, attempting to follow it left her collapsing on the forest floor. Link glowered down at her.

"_What's wrong with you?_" Link commanded, anger, concern marred by his own guilt floated above the other emotions. _Here I was thinking she had been kidnapped, or hurt, and now she's just _sitting _there…_

… _like you have any place to talk, you had been all set to just abandon her…_

With remorse, Link remembered telling himself that she had to be long gone. _But she's here now… _but you had wanted to leave… _but at least… _at least what?

Turning his back on Carrie, Link stormed off, attempting to reign in his emotions.

* * *

Startled, Carrie could not believe what she had just seen. Link had just turned his back to her. Just _walked away. _After everything she'd just put up with, the insane risk she'd put with wondering away, Link was just going to _leave. _

Anger renewing her energy, Carrie leapt to her feet. Striding towards the young man, Carrie swivelled him around.

"What do you mean _what's wrong with me?_" Carrie snapped. "I told you, I was off exploring! I would have been right back!"

"When did you say _that_?" Link cried out, irritated. In her short while knowing him, he'd finally reached her breaking point with her it seemed. Not that his anger was particularly frightening—rather, it only infuriated her even more.

"The note I left!" She responded.

"What _note_?"

"The one in the sand!"

There was a sharp pause, Link shooting her the most incredulous expression.

"The _sand_." It was not a question. Offended, Carrie retorted,

"Well okay, maybe it was mud, or dirt, or something—I don't know! But I wrote it!"

Link shook his head at her, refusing to say anything.

"It _was_ there! Right where you made me sit! I swear!" Still no response. Carrie began walking away, back in the direction towards the first gate she'd come through.

"I'll _show _you, I swear I will—Link…" _Argh… damn stupid he is…_

She felt a strong hand grasp her elbow, pulling her backwards.

"Don't bother, just don't," Link offered, still shaking his head. Again, despite his outburst, he had proved to calm quickly. Even softer than before, Link said, "Come on, let's just get going, okay?" Carrie furrowed her brow. No matter how pleasant a demeanor he may had, Carrie was suspicious of his sudden drop of the subject. Tempted to question it aloud, another thought occurred to Carrie as she followed him down the forest.

_If he's here… that means… he might never have been… there… _

Shaking her head free of such thoughts, Carrie reminded herself that they had only known each other for a few hours.

* * *

They had to have been travelling for a good few hours; the evening paints were covering the sky. Following an obscure path that seemed to have been previously made by Hunters, Carrie and Link soon found themselves outside of an enormous gate.

However, it remained open. Frowning, Link held Carrie back before walking through.

She turned, shooting him a funny look.

"Why can't we just go through?" Carrie demanded, struggling to get around from behind his arm.

"Well—we have no idea what's behind there, if it's already opened then you know it's dangerous, and…" Link prompted, the knowledge second hand to him.

"I dunno," Carrie replied dully, now examining the gate carefully. "I was in front of another gate before, but then it just… opened."

Link raised an eyebrow at her. Sceptically, he said, "It just, _opened_? Just like that?"

Carrie turned around, rolling her eyes at him. "Well, before there was this massive earthquake… this… tremor. I think it was unlocking the gate." Link remembered his own tremor he had experienced. _The lever…_

"Did you find any levers while you were… exploring?" Link asked tentatively, lightly stepping over the word. Pausing in her assessment, Carrie answered,

"Yes… one. Something attacked me after I activated it though."

"So maybe… it was guarding the lever?"

Carrie shrugged in response, fingers trailing the bars.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Link stepped through the gates, motioning for Carrie to join him.

As they continued on, Link felt his breath catch in his throat.

Marble plates embedded the center of a massive clearing, forming a perfect square. But that was not what caught Link's attention.

Nearby, bones lay scattered.

Yellowing, shattered, _colossal_ bones.

The rib cage was large enough to hold a few people, the arms were the size of two full grown men. Stepping forwards in aghast awe, Link made his way to his former opponent.

There, the massive skull rested, jaw hanging open in mocking defeat. Dead hollows rested in unpeacful slumber, lacking the muscle to recognize Link.

Judging from the remains of the mammoth beast, Link safely presumed it was dead.

Twisting around, Link saw Carrie wandering about, in awe of the enormous beast that had been slain.

"Who…" she began. Link did not need her to finish.

"I'm not sure, " he responded. "But whoever it was is someone to be reckoned with. We'd best be careful when we head inwards."

For a little ways down from the skeleton's graveyard, the dark entrance to the castle wall stood.

Dark granite against a pale sky, the castle wall loomed imminently against them. A large drawbridge had been lowered beforehand, spanning the distance to the gap in the forest from where the castle wall stood.

_Once we're through there… there's no turning back. The closer the better. _

Glancing over at Carrie, Link cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Are we going to go ahead then?" Carrie nodded mutely in response. Link took a few steps towards her, and asked more softly,

"Are you sure? Everything will be okay?" Snapping out of her trance, Carrie looked Link squarely in the eyes. Firmly, she answered, "Yes. Whatever awaits…" Carrie fumbled for a minute, covering it by beginning to walk over the drawbridge.

"Whatever awaits, I have no regrets."

She had not looked back at Link when she had declared this, but he took her word for it anyway. _We can't waste time worrying…_

Link followed after Carrie, boots thudding against the dull wood below him. Over the edge, a moat of the death water frothed, sending toxic wisps into the air.

As Link crossed into the stony wall, he felt the bite of his neck inflame briefly. Glaring back at the moat, Link told himself angrily, _I'll be joining that water before I join the night._

* * *

Prestine silk gracefully flowed over the dark marble. The soft pink of the fabric illuminated the porcelain like quality of the skin, in both colour and life. Emerald tresses shifted slightly from the breeze that swept in through the open side of the wall.

She was high up in this place.

She could look down on anyone from where she stood.

The pale moonlight was beginning to rise, its rays' paintbrushes against the monotoned stone room she stood in.

_They approach… all of them_. A soft smile crept onto the pale pink lips, bringing life to the apathetic face. _There are but eight days to go, and still the Hunters show little to no progress. _As entertaining as it was to watch, they needed to come soon. Come quickly.

_If they do not…_well, she could always find another way. She had now… her Lord would be so pleased.

Even now, the Forest was quickly sinking into the past as the Hunters moved forwards, masses of them gathering.

_Come then… come see what the Prince has in store. _Turning swiftly, the regal woman made her way elegantly to the sill of the open wall, taking in the rapidly approaching night to its fullest glory. She heard soft words being whispered through her head, echoes of a memory she'd heard seven years ago.

…_A blood moon will shine down to a foggy lake…_

And, she noted with satisfaction, the moon was drawing more blood with each passing night.

* * *

A/N: Sweet, it's done. XD That makes me oh so happy… and it's holidays! More great news! This just keeps getting better… :) 


	10. Through the Castle Wall

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**Author's Note: **Nothing much to say… read on and enjoy! Btw, thanks to everyone for the reviews. I really appreciate all the positive feedback.

I'm really getting hyped as I write this… we're finally getting closer to the good stuff. ;) Also, for those of you that have played Castlevania, then please excuse the abuse of timeline. ;)

Sorry this chapter took a while, I had exams… five to be exact. I think I failed a few, but a well. These things happen. :)

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Only the integrations I own. Happy?

PRONUNCIATION KEY: ricasso (rhi-KAH-so)

* * *

_**Chapter Ten: Through the Castle Wall**_

* * *

_**DAY TWO: NIGHT**_

A soft breeze picked up, lightly whispering past bitterly cold flowers and grazing against the soft velvet of her robe. Shaking her blonde hair back, the young woman pulled the purple robe tighter around herself. The moon hung slick in the sky, casting divine light down on the fields of Hyrule. Off in the distance, the young woman could just make out Lon Lon Ranch; their torches still burning bright even at this hour of night.

_Eight days… _

Princess Zelda didn't understand. He was always one to be punctual, especially on matters as important as this one. Always. In fact, the last year, he had arrived two _weeks _before the date. And now, only a week was left. If anything, she had almost expected him to arrive even earlier than the last time. So then… _where is he? _

_Maybe… _the young woman's mind burned with thoughts, and taking another step out onto her balcony she leaned against the railing. Perhaps the cooling night air would provide some solace for her raging mind. Not that thinking was a problem; ever since she had been a child, it seemed it was all she could ever do. _It has served me well too…_

But _was_ he even thinking?

_Probably not, _Zelda thought fondly, smiling to herself. Link was the bearer of the Triforce of Courage… it was her job to plan. He could only put into action what her mind came up with. Not that that was a bad thing; they made a good team like that. Of course, Link was _intelligent_; in fact, after his strange four year absence after he'd left in search of his friend, he'd come back quite learned. He had even read a short book to her to prove it; once he'd snuck in past the castle guards.

Zelda sighed. That had been a long time ago… Link no longer snuck in at night to visit her as children did, nor did he even see her at all lately. The only times she spotted him was when he came to the Castle Market Town and she looked through her castle windows, or on the off occasion if she was making a procession through town and he happened to be there.

No, Link had decided a while ago that it had become to dangerous to visit her anymore. _What a pity though… _he had been the closest thing she'd had to a friend in this castle. Not that she was unpopular… just… distant. Somehow, she'd managed to retain her image as the delusional child from all those years ago.

_If only my people had known… if only I could tell Father… _

Her dreams, her visions… they had always been powerful. Impa had noticed that right from the start; if it had not been for her nurse's support, Zelda would have long since quieted. There was one recent dream she had not voiced to anyone though… that girl. Normally, her dreams were filled with visions, the faces of people she knew and recognized and what the future held for them… rarely did she see someone who she was not particularly thinking of. Yes, the Princess of Hyrule had long since mastered her way around the Realm of Dreams.

And yet… that blue haired girl had been there, so briefly. And it was as though… the girl _knew _she was intruding. There Zelda had been, by the fountain, contemplating on where Link could be, and she had stumbled in. And just as quickly, the girl had left. Zelda frowned.

She could tell Impa about it and see what her Nurse made of it; Impa always believed Zelda, not like her father… _or anyone else in the castle for that matter…_

Zelda quickly stopped herself. She could not waste time wishing for something that would never happen, she could not allow frustration to mar her mind. _You do what you must, _Impa had told her. _It will not always be what is best for you but it will always benefit the greater good. _The Princess felt a frown crease her face as she lifted her head now towards the stars.

_But still… we remember. Link remembers. _

Silently, she prayed he would remember to come in eight days time. It was _his_ victory to celebrate—it was only right that he was there.

Before turning away from her railing and moving back inside her chambers, Zelda sent a last prayer to the heavens.

_Please… wherever he is… let Link be all right. Let him._

_**

* * *

**_

_**DAY TWO: NIGHT**_

They could not have gotten this far. They could not have.

Already, they were through the Forest of Silence, through a long dead Forest once called Eternal Knight… already, they were approaching the Castle. _Castlevania_.

_Why am I still even alive? _

After the attack, the burning, the shipwreck, the ogre attack…

… and yet, Carrie Fernandez had somehow managed to keep a grasp on her fragile life. Eyes sliding sideways, Carrie supposed that she would not have made it this far had it not been for her unlikely companion. He was only a bit behind her, still crossing the wooden bridge to the castle wall.

Waiting for him, Carrie's eyes drifted upwards. The wind had stopped blowing so fiercely, but in return it looked as though another storm would be greeting them. Swirling grey clouds lined the forest tops, waiting to release their liquid baggage. _Ugh… as long at least we'll be out of the storm for a bit._

Turning her attention back to her companion, Carrie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as he finally crossed the wood and onto the granite of the wall's floor. _For someone who seems so serious, he sure seems to get lost in thought a lot… _she had to admit, it was unsettling. So far whenever his mind drifted off, Link seemed… worried. It was by no means reassuring. She held back a scrutinizing glare that threatened to overtake her.

There was no need to; Link tossed her a sheepish smirk anyways, as if he'd read the snappish thought right out of her mind.

"I was taking in the view."

Carrie rolled her eyes, carefully choosing to say nothing. In her rare silence, Carrie noticed something else—the expression on Link's face had flickered; solemn paints decorated it. Frowning, Carrie broke the silence.

"What is it?"

Link looked up at her, mouth set and one eyebrow raised. "This is where… this is where we part ways, isn't it?" he asked quietly. Carrie started.

She had completely forgotten of their deal… she couldn't believe it had been just that morning she had reached the conclusion at Rinaldo's. Distinctly, she heard her own voice… _"I take you as far as the castle wall, then you're on your own."_

But… _everything was going fine… dammit all, why did he have to bring it up? _There was nothing about him she had found herself particularly attached to; _he's another human to be traveling with in this place… _That was what it was, she realized. She was longing for some sort of decent company.

Sorely, the pain of being away from her home for almost a day now fired up inside her. The children, Ada, Traian, Henry, Felix, Cornell… all of them… _they'll kill me if I go home now. _Everyone _would kill me. _What their intentions were mattered not; she could not return to Winde Village just yet. _But everyone… their waiting… I haven't found a single child yet, how will I ever? _

_You _can't_ go back._

But…

No, _you can't go back_. Carrie growled internally, hating herself but saying it again and again anyways. _You can't go back. You just can't. Not yet. It isn't safe._

Throughout her reverie, she had not noticed Link watching her silently.

"_What?_" she demanded, anger breaking through the surface of emotions. Link shrugged indifferently. This only pushed her anger further towards the edge… _he isn't even… I can't believe… _

Her angry thoughts however, were interrupted by a sudden, perpetual creaking. Whirling, Carrie looked for the source.

"Carrie!" Link cried out. "Carrie—the drawbridge; it's closing!" She swiveled the other way. Indeed, the wooden drawbridge was reclining backwards, slowly cutting the rays of sun off from reaching the castle wall. Link and Carrie stood, helpless to stop it. If anything, Carrie backed up against the wall—she knew that the drawbridge should stop… but in the Prince's castle… _he's been playing cat and mouse for centuries. Why would he have stopped now? _

The massive drawbridge closing wasn't the only problem. Almost immediately there after, a solid grating sunk down from above, its metal molded into a criss-cross pattern. Fright overtaking her, Carrie backed into the wall even farther, pressing herself against another grating of the same type. Turning, Carrie pressed her hands against the bars—it would not budge.

Flipping around, she saw Link testing the exact same thing with the grating that had just come down. From what she saw, it too would not budge. Carrie cursed under her breath, and began to pace the small area that they had been confined to.

There—she saw it. Two doors were in the narrow hallway, one on each end. Through the front gating, Carrie could see a path that opened to the outdoors, but that path was also blocked by yet _another _grating. _Dammit all… stupid Prince has to make this as hard as possible…_

"Carrie…" She turned to face Link, still with the somber expression on his face. "Carrie, there's two doors. We each take one… and I guess…" Carrie nodded firmly.

"This is where we part our ways then." Strangely, she felt a flicker of remorse. She could have sworn that she'd seen the same thing in Link's eyes. Carrie sighed. _Men are so bad at these kind of things…_

Walking towards him—not that there was much distance to cover—Carrie stuck out her hand. A surprised expression came upon Link, before realization dawned. Raising his own arm, Link grasped her hand. She shook it firmly, and met his eyes squarely.

"Thanks… for everything." She offered sheepishly. "And sorry too—about causing you so much trouble…" Link smirked slightly.

"No worries Carrie. It was an honour to meet someone like you." For the sake of the moment, Carrie managed to restrain from rolling her eyes. _Ha… an honour, to meet me… Carrie Fernandez…_

… _the Witch…_ Carrie suppressed a shudder. _I can't go back, I can't go back…_

_You wouldn't have gotten this far without him…_

Bringing her other arm up, Carrie clasped his hand in both of her own. She offered him one of her rare, sincere smiles.

"Promise to look out for yourself?" she demanded gently. Link grinned in an equally genuine manner.

"I will. And you too, all right?" Carrie let go of Link's hand, and began to back away from him towards her door of choice. She shrugged and offered a playful smirk in return.

"I'll try." Link's grin broadened. He followed her example and turned, moving towards the opposite door. Turning briefly, he waved before slipping through. In response, Carrie nodded silently. After everything she'd been through since arriving at the Forest of Silence…

… _that had to be the saddest. _

A lingering, wistful smile still on her lips, Carrie opened her own door and made her way through. _It doesn't matter. You left telling yourself you could do this on your own—now it's your chance to actually prove it._

Entering a stony room, Carrie did not look back as the door clicked shut behind her.

* * *

The room was made purely of stone—it was hard to differentiate from the floors to the ceiling. Everything was built of the same sized, same coloured, same type of dark grey stone, including the massive pillar in the center of the room. As Link strode in farther, he looked up to find there _was _no ceiling… not one that he could see anyways. The room seemed to stretch on and on until it was devoured in the fog completely. _How _fog formed inside such a sturdy castle wall, Link was not sure.

Grimacing he moved to make his way around the room, the door now closed tight behind him. He hadn't liked being the one to bring it up—but a deal was a deal. She had offered to bring him to the castle wall, and that was that.

_More like you brought her…_

It didn't matter. _At least she was some sort of living company though…_ Link nearly smacked himself. _You're better off without company, especially if you don't make it in time…_

I _have _to make it in time, Link reminded himself.

… _but you may not…_

Shut up.

Link pushed the thoughts away, marching towards what he spotted as a thick staircase lining the wall.

_Besides, _he reminded himself as he made his way up the staircase, which continue to line the wall, circling its way around the room. _You've made it on your own before, why should this case be any different? Especially when it's the _one _time you're better off without it? _

Not true, he argued back. _Before, I had Navi, I had Tatl… _

_Stop living in that past. If you can't focus on today you're not going to have much of a future. _Canceling all of his last, objectionable thoughts, Link realized he had reached a strange predicament in the staircase.

It looked as though a bridge was supposed to have been built, but it had cracked where it attached to both end of the staircase. Indeed, Link had realized that he would climb a few stairs, reach a level and keep going parallel to the floor, and then he would be greeted by another staircase to take him to another level.

Taking the gap at a run, Link just managed to land on the center platform. Backing up on the small space available, he did the same to reach the next platform which would carry him through to the stairs.

On and on Link went past obstacles; sometimes greeted by gaps; a few times bats would attack; strange skeletal heads would sit atop of each other, spitting fire at him; sometimes, the levels would look greenish, and would _flip _over… only to reveal the other side was covered in deathly spikes, both large and small.

It was almost as if…

… _someone set this up. Whoever built this castle was expecting Hunters…_ Link pushed his memory, trying to think back to the Apothecary by Rinaldo's. Something about Belmonts… _that man… Reinhardt… hadn't he said something about Belmonts?_... pressing harder, Link remembered a mention of the lord of the castle… Wallace… Fire? Flames? _No… "Burning"… "Burn something…"_

"Ugh…" Link muttered as he shot an ice arrow at a particularly large demon skull, silencing the flame. "Nothing's making any sense anymore… Wallace… Burner? Burnhurt?" That didn't make any sense either…

"Hard." Link swiveled; he had not sensed anyone's presence… _maybe that voice wasn't human… _

"Right here boy, look up." Following the voice's command, Link tilted his head and gazed upwards. He noticed that after all his fatiguing climbing, he was now high enough in the room to actually see a stone ceiling.

_But that voice… _Then Link saw him.

A man stood at the top of the staircase, obscured slightly because of the angle Link was standing at. From what Link could see, the man had silver hair adorning his head and falling carelessly to the nape of his neck. Though the man did not look old—rather, from the confidence of his voice and strong angular face, Link assumed the man had to be in his mid to late twenties. Stone grey eyes watched Link carefully, calculating him.

Link started.

_I could make out his eye colour, from all the way down here I could see his eyes…_

Shaking off the profound thought, Link continued to make his way up. His muscles had tensed slightly, despite the weariness that was beginning to plague them. He did not think there was reason to worry however; if this man had been an enemy, he could have caught Link by surprise instead of talking to him. Remembering the man's comment, Link climbed a few steps higher so that they were not on the same level but could now see him clearly.

"What's hard?" he asked carefully, not yet released the nocked arrow from his bow. His own deep blue eyes met the pewter ones squarely. _If he's looking for a challenge…_

Link was surprised when he saw a slight smile tug at the corners of the man's mouth. Not a derisive smirk, but somehow… cheerful. Cocking his head to the side, the man offered in response,

"Hard. As in Bernhard… and his first name was Walter, not Wallace." Raising his eyebrows at the peculiar comment, Link nodded slowly. _Was I talking that loudly…?_

The man took a few steps forward, seeing that Link did not intend to take the initiative too. Tensing, Link watched the man come closer.

"I'll be upfront with you; whom do you serve?" Link raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. Words were never the best answer in these sorts of situations. The man frowned.

"Gone mute? Or maybe unwilling to tell me the grieving truth?" Link could not ignore the note of suspicion in the last question. Opening his mouth to reply, Link was cut off by a sudden, strange sound. It sounded, somewhat, like sobbing. The man's frowned deepened—clearly he had been expecting a response. "What is it son?" he asked again. Link shook his head, listening harder.

The sobbing… it was a child's. It came from… _the side. But there's nothing in this room but this staircase against the wall and…_ Link frowned, studying the room, before his eyes caught it. _The pillar! _And there, Link could just see a pitch black crack in the pillar… and the sobbing, it had to be coming from inside.

_The someone's inside…?!_

Startled, Link quickly made for the edge of the staircase. He felt a strong hand grasp his collar however.

"What's wrong with you?" the man snapped, half frustrated, half concerned. "You don't have to run from me—" Growling, Link pulled himself free from the man's grasp. _I can make the jump, if I take it at a run…_

Examining the gap between the staircase in the wall, Link realized that there was no way he was going to cover the distance… _unless…_

Reaching into his bag, Link whipped out his hookshot and pushed past the surprised man in front of him. He needed to be as perpendicular to the crack as he could if this was going to work…

… _But where… there's nothing my hookshot can attach to… _all around him, stone seemed to laugh. But the sobbing… he could hear it so clearly now, he was right across from the crack…

Thinking of no other solution, Link cried out,

"Are you all right?" The sobs stopped for a moment, and from the lack of response Link guessed the person was composing a response.

"Who—who are you?" was their first answer. From the sounds of their voice, it seemed like another child, female.

A few steps below, Link saw out of the corner of his eye that the man had raced up and was now standing beside Link. A look of shock on his face, the man called out,

"Bess… Bess, is that you?"

The girl gasped and called in response, "Cornell! Cornell! I thought no one was coming and I was so scared and I didn't know what to do…" the girl's ramblings subsided into sobs.

The man—Cornell—grimaced in response.

"Don't worry Bess; I'll get you out from there just hang on…" Desperately, Cornell turned to Link. "How are we going to…" Link pulled out his bow and arrow again, although this time, it was a special arrow of his.

"It won't work; there's nothing for your arrow to hold onto…" Ignoring the man, Link nocked the ice arrow to his bow and took aim.

"It doesn't need to stick…" Link took the arrow and shot it at the area just below the crack. He saw Cornell raise his eyebrows, impressed with the reaction of the stone.

Once the arrow had hit its mark, ice erupted from the tip and had quickly begun to accumulate around it. It would have blocked up the crack too, had the arrow slipped from its place on the wall and fallen towards the ground. What lay in its former target was now a small, fragile platform jutting out beneath the crack.

Link backed up, intending to make a jump for it. Throwing out one arm to stop him though, Cornell instead took the lead. Backing up against the wall, the man took the edge of the stairs at an impressive run and landed swiftly on the platform, barely slipping. _He… there's no way…_

Cornell quickly ducked into the small crack, and emerged even quicker with a young girl in his arms. Watching the platform, Link shouted,

"Careful—the platform! It's cracking already!" Nodding, Cornell pushed the girl forwards. From what he could see, Link noted the girl was by no means brave enough to dare the jump across.

"No, just jump!" Cornell ordered. "I'll help you, just jump!" Putting his hands around the little girl's waist, Cornell prepared to help her push off the ground. Link didn't need orders—he was stood as close to the edge as he could, waiting for the girl.

Bess closed her eyes, and pushed her little legs off the ground. Link saw Cornell's muscles tense as he gave her an extra push through the air…

… Link lifted out his arms…

… the girl went flying through the air…

… Link landed flat on his back as the little girl landed against him.

From where he lay, Link could just see Cornell leaping off the platform before the ice gave way and shattered.

Bess clamored off of him and quickly ran to Cornell, who took her into open arms. Link sat himself upright and watched the young girl break down into tears in Cornell's arms. Smoothing her hair back, Cornell spoke softly to her, trying to calm her it seemed. After readjusting his cap's weakened grasp on his head, Link stood up.

_This has got to be the fourth child I've had to save… what is it with this place?_

_Only three… _another voice reminded him. _Losing Malus hardly counts as saving him… _Link pushed the though from his head, and made his way forwards.

_I don't need this…_

_

* * *

_

Cornell placed the child down, and called out after the young man,

"Wait—thank you!" Bess moved behind his legs, clearly still frightened after whatever had attacked her. Cornell saw the young man stop in his tracks and turn around to face him.

"Don't worry about it," was all he offered. He then turned back to making his way up to the top of the castle wall. If anything, Cornell could have sworn the young man seemed almost… _awkward_. Frowning, he called out after him once more,

"Hang on… at least let the girl know who her hero is."

This time his response was even more hastily given. "Link," he called out. "My name is Link."

_That's it? No surname, no clan, no house? _Cornell frowned at the peculiar response. Walking forwards quickly with Bess in his wake, he reached out and grabbed the young man's arm.

"Link—you really shouldn't just, I mean…" Cornell tried to resist the urge to become frustrated with the lad—it had been a long time since he'd struggled to say what he meant. The moment was interrupted though, by another man's voice calling out from above.

"Sir Cornell!" It was Sir George. Two of them, Sir George and he had all ventured into the left tower, while Henry had gone up the other one. The other four knights he had been granted by the Church were still in the Forest, searching for other kidnapped children from the village.

Looking up, Cornell replied, "George! Get down here—take Bess back to the base of the castle wall!" He saw the knight make his way down a few flights of stairs and eventually come to face him. Noticing the young Bess behind his legs, George grinned in relief.

"Come on lass," the man offered her his hand, which she complied to take. "Let's get you down from here." Cornell watched the two of them carefully make their way down the stairs, and across the first serial landing.

_They'll be fine. Just focus on getting to the top… you need to see what's up there if you ever want to get out of this Wall._ Up ahead, Cornell noticed, Link had made his way up another flight of stairs but had flattened himself against one of the walls when Sir George had rushed past to follow his Captain's orders. Now that the man had passed, Link continued on his way upwards.

Picking up his pace, Cornell made to catch up with the lad.

_How could he have heard that…_

Even with his acute senses that he retained from all those years ago, Cornell had not made out a sound. And the young man's _ears_… those had been strange enough on his own. Admittedly, Cornell had been suspicious of the lad; elfin ears such as his could only signify danger… but then, _I should have long since learned that being different isn't a crime…_

Almost inclined to apologize, Cornell caught up with Link and grasped the young man's shoulder. Link started and swiftly turned around, but relaxed when he saw who it was. Cornell smirked slightly at the boy.

"Just thought I should apologize. I never did properly introduce myself back there…" Raising his arm, he offered Link his hand. "I'm Cornell."

"_Sir _Cornell, I believe I heard." Cornell saw a ghost of a smirk playing on the boy's lips as well.

Laughing slightly at his comment, Cornell responded lightly,

"Matters not. In the Hunt, we're all equals." Cornell could have sworn a brief look of confusion flash over the boy's face, but it was gone almost immediately. Instead, the young man nodded.

_Not much of a talker…_

…_you weren't either when you were young…_

Cornell frowned, feeling a displaced empathy for the boy. But all the same, he could not quell his curiosity.

"From the way you…" Cornell thought of the phrasing for his statement. "_Present_ yourself… I was under the impression that you're not from around here, are you?" Link shook his head in response. For a moment Cornell thought this was the only response he was going to get from Link, before the young man added,

"I had never even heard of this land before I came here." Cornell raised an eyebrow at the young man, but did not say anything until the made their way across another broken landing and found themselves at the base of another staircase. Curiosity further peaked, Cornell inquired,

"Well then… where do you come from Link?" Link grimaced slightly, almost as though the question hurt.

"Doesn't matter."

"Why are you in Wallachia then?"

"I—I happened upon it, really. My horse got… lost in the forest and before I knew what was happening, I was here."

"Well, where's your horse now?"

A pause from Link.

"Gone." Cornell clucked his tongue in sympathy; he knew what it was like to lose a good steed.

"Pity then… well, if you are here out of happening, why pray tell are you heading towards the depths of Castlevania?" Another pause from Link, and when he spoke his words sounded careful and guarded.

"I… I need to save someone before… before the night takes them so far in that—"

Cornell stopped at the top of the staircase—they had now indeed reach the summit of the incredibly long staircase up the left tower of the castle wall. In fact, looking down, Cornell could no longer make out the floor—it had become shrouded in fog. The stood in an extremely small hallway, with a single door on the other end. On it, the symbol of a moon was engraved upon it.

"That what?" Cornell prompted quietly, picking up on the boy's somber demeanor.

"That their too far gone to save." Raising an eyebrow at the simple finishing words, Cornell further prodded,

"Who is this person to you?"

"Someone I like to think is important."

"How important?"

"Not exactly sure—sorry to be rude, but why all the questions?" The young man just held the snap out of his voice. Cornell bit his lip and nodded apologetically. _I'm never usually this interrogative…_

…_but still, the last time I met someone this strange…_

Cornell shook his head; such sorrow would only further plague his mind on this already depressing journey. _She's dead; long dead. No sense still dwelling on it after all these years…_

Link continued ahead, pressing one hand against the moon crested door. Glancing once over his shoulder back at Cornell, Link proceeded to open the door all the way. Having expected the young man to go right on through, Cornell was surprised when he saw Link hold it open for him.

Cornell suppressed a thoughtful frown and moved through the doors as well, allowing Link to close it behind him. From his actions toward Cornell, he was almost certain Link wasn't fond of him at all. And yet…

… _strange lad. Brave, strong, and intelligent… _Cornell thought, remembering Bess' rescue from earlier.

… _but all the same, strange. _

* * *

She had to have been traveling for at least an hour. _At least. _Or maybe it was more… maybe it had been so long that she had lost track. _Maybe days have passed and I'm locked up in this stupid tower forever and ever and no one will ever find me—_

"Carrie!"

—_Maybe it's better to not be found._

Orb gathering in her hand, Carrie whipped around. She was half-way up these treacherous stairs that lined the right tower's walls. Eyes running over the stone room quickly, they stopped when they spotted a familiar blonde ponytail bobbing down the stairs ahead of her.

_Dammit all… I knew someone else was in here all along…_

A new fear was there though; she recognized perfectly well who's voice that was.

"Carrie Fernandez! Stay right there, I swear—" Acting on instinct, Carrie stopped gathering energy in her fist and turned around—fleeing as fast as she could back down the stairway.

_Dammit dammit oh shit I am _going _to die…_

… _what the Hell is he doing here anyways? Bloody… stupid…_

Now already having put three flights of stairs between her and her pursuer, Carrie stopped for a split second to turn around and watch her tracker.

… _Henry…_

… _ugh…_

Henry covered another staircase, running fast despite his knight's armour that covered him. She leapt over a few stairs, almost losing her footing.

_If Henry's here though…_

… _from home… then does that mean…_

… _who else is with him?_

Shaking her head, Carrie's feet pounded against the stone…

… _no, no… he's not that stupid, he wouldn't bring them…_

"Stay _there_—I'm serious!" Looking downwards, Carrie saw there wasn't much of an escape. _He wouldn't, he wouldn't…_

But that didn't mean she was just going to let him shackle her up and take her home.

She _could _keep running, _but what would be the point? The bottom of the stairs, then a locked grating… _Carrie groaned inwardly. She was in for it big time; Henry was only a few steps away from her.

As opposed to slathering an apologetic look on her face—which, she supposed, would probably have been a much better option—Carrie glared a challenge at the blonde man facing her.

"What are you _doing _here anyways?" Henry sent a full strength scowl back at her, eyes in slits.

"What am _I _doing here? _Me_?" Henry stepped closer to her, barely reigning in his anger. "Of _all _people in _all _ofWinde, she wants to know what _I_, a _knight_—" Carrie groaned inwardly "—A _soldier_, a _full-grown _man am doing in this treacherous place?" Carrie opened her mouth to snap back a fistful of retorts, but Henry cut her off,

"But let me guess? _The _Carrie Fernandez thinks its okay to leave her village, slip away from her _home_, her _family_, in the dead of night? _Does she?_"

The entire time, Henry's voice had started dangerously quiet, volume building with each passing word. From the sounds of it, he was about to reach his breaking point. Trying rapidly to resolve what she knew could not be undone, Carrie threw out a quick,

"Henry, listen; I'm sorry, like, seriously. I'm mean, but—"

"_NO BUTS!_" Henry roared. "Do _you, _have _any_ idea how _worried _we were? You could have been _kidnapped_, been _lost_, been _eaten…_" Henry's voice dropped again, dragging his head down with it. Looking up again, he said with a rare display of genuine fear,

"Carrie… you could have been caught in the Winde's wrath again. Sir Samuel's wrath." The words were soft but hardened like clay in the dry ambiance of the tower. Carrie hung her head, not quite able to meet Henry in the eye. Squeezing her eyes shut, Carrie did not allow the images of the burning to flood her mind, but she did swallow her pride.

"Henry…" She began. Not knowing what to say, Carrie shot forwards towards a startled Henry. Throwing her arms around him, she squeezed tightly. Carrie was startled herself—embracing Henry wasn't exactly a favored form of communicating. Not that she did not care for him; but somehow, cursing and glaring marred their way between the two.

Henry too must have been startled, but not for long. Quickly he wrapped his own arms around Carrie's frail frame, squeezing just as tightly, he smoothed back her hair and held her at arm's length.

For a moment, Carrie thought he would say something soft and comforting, something Cornell might have said. But, as the other half of her expected, he simply shook his head in disbelief and let her go again. Carrie rolled her eyes.

_Honestly. How does Ada ever get anything out of him?_

Their surprised reunion cast aside, Carrie began making her way back up the stairs with Henry in her wake. Trudging along beside her, Henry inquired,

"Wait… where do you think your going?"

Carrie dead panned. "You can't think I'm going back _home_, can you?" Stopping, Henry grimaced slightly at her words. _Even he can't be that blind…_ Henry shook his head.

"I don't Carrie, ok?" he said glumly. "We'll talk to Cornell and see what he decides." Carrie went rigid.

"Co… Cornell? He's—he's here as well?" A dry look on his face, Henry responded,

"Well yes… we were sent here together on our mission."

"What mission?"

"Well, if you'd stayed at the Orphanage, then maybe you'd know."

Carrie rolled her eyes with exaggeration, but said nothing.

_Cornell… what am I going to do? I'm never going to hear the end of it for leaving… he's going to make me go home… dammit all… _Anger had not taken over Carrie; rather, she felt grim despair settle in.

Some time later, Carrie and Henry had managed to pass over the treacherous stairs. Though most of it had been in silence that neither was willing to break. On the final platform, there was a single door that had a sun engraved upon it. Carrie grimaced—if the door needed the light of day to open, her and Henry could be there for a while. She moved to open it, but Henry beat her to it. Leaning his weight against the wooden door, Carrie felt relief flutter in when it swung open.

Angry, frustrated, and rash as he was, Henry was still chivalrous enough to keep the door open for Carrie as she passed through.

A ball of raging blue flames came hurdling at her as soon as she entered. Letting out a shriek, Carrie leapt sideways and threw herself backwards, the flame just missing her.

* * *

Ahead of Link and Cornell was an enormous mechanism, but it boasted nothing but rust and years of neglect. They had emerged from the stairs in the center of the room, that was covered by a roof—making the stairway door looking like a small hut in the circular stone room.

The rest of the room was stone, although there was no ceiling. Instead, the room opened to the heavens, allowing moonlight to stream in but with walls climbing a good few feet high. Except, that was, for a crack to the far right, just low enough for someone to trip and fall out of.

Shuddering, Link pulled off his cap and ran his hand through his hair, slightly sweaty from the climb. _At least you had a roof over your head when you were climbing. _Link snapped free of the thought, unsure of where exactly it had come from.

_What would I have to be scared of? _

A voice hissed an answer from somewhere inside of his mind. Angered, Link beat the thought back into a darker corner. Stuffing his hat back on, Link marched up to the mechanism with Cornell in his wake. Behind him, he heard the man cluck his tongue in awe. "Still here…"

Link turned to face the silver haired man. "What is?" he asked curiously. The man was polite enough; it was only fair Link returned the favor. _Sure, completely polite, what with the interrogation… _Link shook his head. Clearly just spending a day traipsing through the forest with that girl was enough to rub off on him. _He was only curious,_ the young man reminded himself.

Striding over to where Cornell stood, he saw what the man was looking at. Noticing the younger man, Cornell offered in response,

"It's nothing Link. Just…" Cornell placed on hand on the lever, and pushed down with some force. "… here. I think that should do it." Raising an eyebrow, Link started when he heard a faint screaming of iron on stone in the distance. The lever was all the way down now, and the movement had stopped.

"Did… did you just open…?"

Cornell nodded in response.

"Ground level, the second gate. If Henry makes it up all right, then the first one should be open." Interest peaked, Link prodded,

"Do you know what lies beyond the castle wall?" Again, Cornell nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the pillar that supported the lever.

"An annex to the evil castle…" _How does this man know so much about such a cursed place? _Link did not voice the thought, but instead added,

"A villa?" Again, Cornell nodded silently. Getting up from the pillar, Cornell began to make his way to the edge of the floor they were on, to the crack that seemingly went nowhere but a non-stop trip to the ground below. Still by the mechanism, Link instead mused,

"Then…" Cornell turned back around for a moment, a grimace painted plain on his strong face.

"Then some more forest, a path below ground and from there… Castle Center." Link nodded absently. _Can I even cover all that in three days? _Trying not to let the worry overcome his features, Link whispered bitterly to himself,

"And then one step closer to the castle, to the dark…"

"Come now, love. You say it almost as though it is a vile thing."

A sharp, yet floating feminine voice had entered the room. Swiveling around on the spot, Link carefully scanned every inch of the room. There, to the right.

Nearby the crack, standing in the cascading moonlight, a striking women stood. A soft smirk rested on soft pink lips. A deathly pale face was framed by locks of emerald hair, a gently wave giving them the life that her complexion clearly lacked. To her slender frame clung a pink dress, draped and flowing with every one of her graceful steps as she wandered the room.

Stiffening, Link watched her carefully, hand itching to his sword. From the corner of his eye, Link saw Cornell do the same thing. The man however, remained silent, watching the new addition to the room carefully.

"Who—" Link cut himself off, realizing how badly his voice had shaken. Strengthening his words, Link continued, "Who _are _you?" She was beautiful; there was no doubt of that. And yet, death and ill fate seemed to adorn this women as a noose on a guilty one. No matter what it looked like and what she said, there was no way out of her curse.

_Her curse…_

"That's right Link," the woman crooned sardonically. _How did she know…?_ "A vampire. Just like—"

"That's enough," Link snapped, cutting her off, hand on the hilt of his sword. "I don't need to hear anything you have to say." _I don't care how she knew my name. I want her out of here. _Already, in the few minutes she had graced his presence, Link already felt strong dislike towards this woman. _Whoever she is… something isn't right. _Of course, Link reasoned mentally. _She's a vampire, nothing can be _allright_ for her. _Like me… _stop it. You're not one of them. Not yet._

"And yet time will tell," she offered, a soft smirk on her lips. _She did it… again… how—why…_?

"Are you going to start making sense?" Cornell had spoken up, sharply at that. Link used this moment to try and surface from his confused thoughts. The vampiress turned to the man, and took a few steps closer to him.

"That, _half-man_, is hardly of importance to you," and for good measure, the woman added, "and love, the moment it starts making sense, do remember that it is by no means a good sign." A sneer crawling into her words, the woman raised one eyebrow in challenge. Cornell growled,

"You talk only of the past," he practically spat, distaste written clearly over his face. "What matters now is that you tell us who you are and what you want—then its best you leave."

The women's eyes flared up with indignation, and with a flick of her arm, Cornell was thrown against the stone wall.

Resisting the urge to cry out, Link shot towards the older man, now lying moaning on the floor. Link approached him and hunkered down to help the man up, but Cornell brushed him away. Looking up, Link saw the vampiress moving towards them. Standing up quickly, Link readied himself.

_If this woman is a vampire, then why…how does she have so much control? _Eyes narrowing, Link moved in front of the still kneeling Cornell.

"I have more power than you think love," the women offered. "Care to see?" Instantly, Link whipped out his razor sword and steadied himself. _Come on then, demon. Do your wo—_

Link's thoughts were cut off by the derisive laugh of the woman. The high pitched sound echoed throughout the empty stone room, piercing Link's eardrums.

"_Demon? _You _dare _call _me_ a _demon? _I am a _Countess_, boy, not some common blood fiend. But then…" the woman paused, and looked Link intently in the eye for a moment. Link blinked and dropped his gaze; something of the vampiress had almost made his eyes go cold…

"… you… someone like _you_ would have _much _experience with demons, would they not? Traveled far and wide, even managed to imprison the other—"

"That's right!" Link burst out, half in panic. _No one needs to know… how does she… _"I've slain more than enough demons to know one when I see it!" Link tightened his grip on the razor sword and moved forwards, preparing to strike.

_I've had enough of you…_

A blast of unnatural wind caught him, knocking him off his feet. He did not go flying against the wall, but Link felt his sword being wrenched from his grasp. _No… not…_ it was too late. The sword was pulled free despite his attempts, and Link watched it be whipped over the edge of the castle wall.

"Dammit!" he cried out, struggling to get up. "What are you doing? What do you want?" _Crazy woman, out to kill me, out to make me helpless and just let something else kill me…_

… _that was the Mountain Smithy's Sword, that was the Kokiri Sword…_

…home. Somewhere in his feisty thrashing about, Link felt the word sink in. _That was home. _

"_Home?_" The woman laughed. "Let me tell you something about _home_. _This—_" the woman waved her arms around gracefully—"is my _home. _This is _mine._ _You _are intruders, who dare question the Prince, _you _are not welcome here…" Link had stopped struggling and was now glaring heatedly at the mocking Countess, "… but out of _hospitality_,_ I _shall allow you to continue." With a final smirk, the woman turned away and in a cloud of hazy orange smoke, disappeared without a trace.

The moment her presence had left, the invisible bonds on Link had disappeared. Leaping to his feet, Link raced back to Cornell, who had managed to lightly stand. Grasping the wobbling man with both hands, Link steadied him. Smiling a soft thanks, Cornell still pushed him away after a moment to recover.

"Don't worry Link," he offered, walked carefully back to the crack he had originally aimed at, Cornell turned back and motioned for Link to follow. There was a brief pause, before Link realized nothing was going to be said on their strange visitor. So he kept his silence, and made his way towards the older man.

Upon reaching the crack. Link peered over the edge.

There, below, a ledge jutted out from the stone wall. Below that, there was a giant pillar, and a wider plateau—the distance being just safe enough to jump. _Almost like it had been set up…_

Peering down though, Link saw the most peculiar thing. The scattered remains of a skeleton lay about the second plateau, but it was utterly still. Even more strange however, was the shade of the skeleton's bones. They were not the normal off-white, nor were they the light blue of the bomb-heads… no, these ones had blood red bones. _Demons… _

Remembering, the Countess, Link shook off the thoughts. Jumping down to the first ledge next to Cornell, he noticed tension was strewn across the older man's face. Frowning, Link asked before moving onwards,

"You are… sure that you're all right… aren't you?" Cornell turned to him and grimaced slightly.

"It's not my back I'm worried about, boy," he responded, bitterness stinging the back of his words. Link was further perplexed, but compromised by swinging one leg carefully over the edge and jumping to the next platform. He was careful to give the skeleton a scrutinizing glare before turning his attention back to the injured man above him.

Looking up, he waited to help Cornell, just in case.

Link saw the man's eyes widen quickly as he was helping him down. Before Cornell even said anything, Link whipped around just as he was calling, "Look out!"

Throwing himself sideways, Link just missed the red club swinging down at him. _Damn skeletons, I swear—_Link stopped dead short. His hand had swung to his sheath behind him, meeting thin air.

The blood red skeleton took another swing at him, jaw moving rapidly in soundless, derisive laughter.

_Damn you, Countess! _Hurling himself sideways again, Link quickly brought out his bow and arrow. He should have known better though—it was ridiculously hard to nock an arrow when an insane skeleton was swinging at him on a tiny platform.

Link was now backed up to the edge, and another swing from the skeleton would have knocked him clean off. Tensing, Link took aim…

… and saw a blade slice through the ribcage of the demon, then it was thrust crudely to efficiently rip apart the skeleton. As the bones dropped, Link saw Cornell standing behind them, sheathing his sword. Grimacing, Cornell said to Link—who was now putting away the bow and arrow—

"You have to be more careful in a place like this Link." Turning, Cornell made to swing another leg carefully over the ledge and onto the next.

That was when the bones began to shudder.

_Goddesses… not this again…_

The ground did not shake, but with a powerful force shared between them, Link saw the bones drag themselves back together.

With that same, imminent trembling, a full fledged, red skeleton stood in front of them. Having already put one leg over the side, Cornell scrambled to climb atop—

—but the skeleton lunged, seeking revenge—

—Link, having no weapon, yanked off his sheath and clubbed the fiend over the head. The skeleton whipped around, and backing up, Link smashed it again. Finally, the bones fell apart once again. Cornell had managed to climb back aboard, and shouted,

"We should get out of here! It's a red skeleton—it'll keep forming no matter what!"

"But won't it chase us down then?" Link responded. Cornell frowned,

"Leave it boy; just come!" Link moved forwards, but stopped by the remains. They were beginning to tremble again.

Thinking quickly, Link grabbed the most common source for power—the skull. Though it trembled like mad within his grasp, Link picked it up and hurled it with all of his might, over the castle wall and far into the night sky.

He did not hear it meet the ground, but the trembling had stopped. _Thank goodness… I swear… if I see one more bloody skeleton… I'll bloody…_

Link cut himself off—he'd picked up on Carrie's foul use of language. Shaking his head, Link swung down after Cornell. Raising an eyebrow, Cornell said,

"You fight very well."

"Ha," Link replied. "All I did was smash it."

"True," Cornell agreed, making his way across the ledge to a whole in the ground. "But, you'd be surprised: not many can think that quickly in a situation." Not knowing what to say, Link merely shrugged. _You'd have no idea what situations I'd been in before though, would you? _He asked quietly. _But she knew. _Dammit. _Somehow, she knew. She saw it all… _it was true. As she probed and ripped apart his memories in a matter of seconds, Link had briefly seen it all fly before his eyes.

_She knows now too. _Stop it Link. You don't need this.

_But she knows. She could tell anyone. _What do I care? _You don't. But this is your struggle. _Exactly. So leave me be. _You don't want to have to do this alone. _I have to. _You don't want to. _I _have _to. _You don't—_

"Stop it!" Link burst out aloud, covering his face in his hands. His neck throbbed painfully at the mark, and Link groaned. _I'm losing it. I'm going to go absolutely _insane_ before I even find the damned vampire girl. _

Link felt a hand on his shoulder, and looking up he saw Cornell wearing a concerned expression on his face.

"Are _you _all right lad?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Link nodded mutely. He supposed he could have been embarrassed had he not been so frustrated with himself. _I hate this place so much. I just want to _leave _already._

_It's barely been a day and you can't survive. And you call yourself the Hero of Time? The Champion of the Giants? _

_Stop. Now._

Link did not need to go through another one of these. Realizing they were both standing quite still now, Link shrugged Cornell's hand off and began making his way to the hole. He heard Cornell follow him.

"You're absolutely_ sure_ you're okay?" Cornell asked again, more firmly. Link sighed and looked back at the older man, throwing up his arms in defeat.

"No, I'm not," he said dejectedly. "I'm lost from my home, lost my best mare, trying to fight demons and now I've lost my sword." Cornell sighed in sympathy.

"All right, I'm sorry," Cornell admitted. "I know what it's like to be in a place you've never seen before, be among strangers… and I couldn't imagine losing the Templar. It's been with me since the day I was made Captain."

"Templar?" Link repeated.

"Aye," Cornell replied, gripping the sword at his side. Cocking his head to the side, Link asked curiously,

"What makes such a blade so special?" Cornell laughed slightly.

"There is no magic to my sword, son," he answered, smiling. "It's symbolic; the Templar was often used by knights to protect pilgrims on their journeys." Link studied the sword from where he could see—it was intricately carved, with engravings encompassing the majority of the hilt and ricasso. He could not see the blade, but judging from the top quality of the sheath and hilt, Link assumed it was good.

"Then you have my congratulations," Link offered, turning to the hole and swinging his legs down the whole. The drop was not far down, and from what it looked like it led down to the original narrow passage in which he and Carrie had parted ways. Dropping down, he saw Cornell follow suit.

However, with a start, he saw the knight from before, along with Bess, still standing there.

"What are you… ?" the knight—_Sir George,_ Link remembered—did not finish his question. Turning, Link understood the man's problem—when he and Cornell had pulled the lever, the gate beyond had opened up. But the one that was directly in front of them, the one that blocked them off from the now open gate, was till very much closed.

* * *

Pressed against the stone wall, Carrie squeezed her eyes shut and pushed every bit of power she could muster to her fingertips. The warmth rapidly spread through her aching body, and before long there was a meager orb at her finger tips. Above her on the platform, Henry had steadied another arrow, and was taking aim. They had come out of the doorway, which had led them to the center of a room infected with two massive, fire-breathing worms.

It had tangled itself in the gears behind a lever, and was hissing and snarling bright blue fire at Henry and Carrie.

_Dammit all, these demons don't end!_

They had taken shelter behind the dome that had covered the stairs, until Henry had climbed on top. With his arrows and her magic, they had managed to take one out. It couldn't be long before this one died out as well, _the bloody stupid pests,_ Carrie thought miserably.

Peeking out from behind the stair's wall, Carrie left her homing beam fly. _Yes!_ She cried out silently, too exhausted to speak aloud. The final blow had caught the worm in it's head, and raging crimson fire ran through the worm's body.

And from out of it's mouth, reached Carrie and Henry.

"What the hell!" Carrie exclaimed, Henry glancing down at her. "Why isn't it dead?" Having flung herself back behind the wall, she waited for some sort of response as she heard more fire spewing from the enormous worm's mouth. Carrie tugged her knees closer when she saw a massive flame reach the sides of the wall, nearly burning her.

_Fire… why won't it leave, why won't it leave me alone… _Another thought shook through her panic.

_Henry, _Carrie thought in panic. _I had the wall to protect me from that blast, but Henry… _

"Carrie!" Henry roared from above. "Get the bloody hell up here! You'll get burned to death down there!" _Burned to death… _Shut up, Carrie hissed to herself. _You don't have time to be dwelling on the past. _So for once, Carrie took a leap and climbed on top of the stair wall, not questioning Henry once. Sparing a moment, Henry grabbed her shoulder and gruffly brought her to her feet.

_Always was affectionate_, Carrie thought sarcastically, not able to repress the thought even in the heat of battle. Turning, she saw what the worm had become.

Its outer layer of skin gone, now the worm spat intensified fire at it, covered in charcoal. Blood and a sticky, viscous substance was oozing from it as well, but the worm was by no means deterred. Building up another orb in hand, Carrie let fire.

Orb after pathetic orb, Carrie shot them off. _I can't keep this up—I _can't_. If I have to fire one more I think I'll… I'll… bloody hell, I'll—_

A sudden shove from Henry, and Carrie had fallen off the stair roof and was on the ground. Not that she had been harmed—Henry had wrapped one arm around her and helped brace her fall—but all the same, _Henry didn't have to be so damn rude about it. _

Even if he had just saved her life, really. It seemed as though as all of the constant firings had done some good—

—in one massive blowout of flames, the worm screeched and was consumed by its own weapon. During the time, Carrie had not see anything—she had buried her face in her arms, and Henry had pulled her into a protective hug.

Finally, when the room cooled down, Carrie scuttled away from Henry and blew her bangs out of her eyes. She took in the room around her, just as Henry was getting up. Around them, was pure stone in a cylindrical shape—_we've reached the top tower then. _

Up ahead were the gears that once were home to the twin worms. Standing alone in front was a smaller pillar, with another lever on it. _It's just like that other one… with that ogre… _Carrie grimaced. If this was anything like her previous experience, she'd avoid pulling the lever at all costs.

Henry had a different plan in mind though.

Striding over, he did not hesitate as he began pressing down on the lever with his full weight.

"Henry!" Carrie called out, rushing over to stop him.

_Click._

Too late. The lever now hung on the low portion of its slot, and there was a slow, progressive rumbling. _Ah dammit, please, please, let there be no more demons._

Almost on cue, there was a vast gust of wind; enough to almost send Carrie stumbling.

"Miserable worm," someone drawled. Carrie almost doubled over—the voice was rough and dry, sounding like cracking lumber. Glancing up, she saw a tall, dark man floating above the ground, just into the midnight sky. His hair was a dull bluish grey, and his skin looked like waxen grey paper. He wore a full maroon suit, complete with a beige sash and dark brown, leather boots. _Who…? _

"Upstart weaklings," he continued, sneering down at them. _Don't you dare… _But Carrie could not speak. She could barely find her voice. The man's dead eyes were livid, and sheer contempt was stroked across his face. "All who oppose the dark lord must die! Come, meet your doom!" In a roar of derisive laughter, the man was encompassed in orange smoke before disappearing.

"Who the…" Henry did not bother to finish his growl though, and instead shook himself free of the stationary pose he had found himself in. _But he was just as worried as I was… _Looking over at her, Henry motioned for Carrie to follow. Off to the side, Carrie saw a small crack in the wall. When she reached the crack, a small platform could be seen below. And one after that.

Carrie sighed, and swinging one leg over after Henry had climbed down to the first platform.

_Now I get to travel all the way down with Henry._

He was already glaring furiously at her.

_Just go easy on me, for once, _Carrie thought miserably. _I'm gonna hear it from Cornell as it is_.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Well, that was that. I know, a bit of a slow chapter for sure, but I had to take a break somewhere, right? Hope you enjoyed the chapter, you all know how to let me know… other than that, happy non-exam days you wonderful readers you! 


	11. Annex to the Evil Castle

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long wait! I've been working on some other writing projects lately… and have been playing Final Fantasy XII non-stop. Well, except for now… cuz I'm stuck… XD

Much thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted or favourited this fic… you guys are awesome! If any of you are still reading this with my ridiculous update dates… again, I'm really sorry. This chapter was actually done a while ago, I was just lazy with the editing… but I dug it up today and realized it's been what? A long time? LoL Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter, as always. 

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Castlevania, Legend of Zelda, the Templar… umm… yeah, in general, I own nothing. Really.

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven: Annex to the Evil Castle**_

* * *

_**DAY THREE: DAWN**_

Sunlight was cracking over the sky, causing painful ruptures against the pastels of pinks and oranges. Indeed, morning would come soon—and if they did not get past these damned gates soon, Link feared his third day would be over before he'd even gotten _into _the Villa that lay beyond.

From where he was sitting on the dry ground, Link shifted uncomfortably. Cornell and two other knights were _trying _to think of something… he _wished_ they'd hurry up. He'd drank up his own canteen of ideas, and was far too weary to think anymore. _Maybe if you _told_ them of your dilemma… _No, Link replied sharply. _I can't. Doesn't matter what I think of them—everything could change for the worse if they know_. It was true. Even back in Hyrule, people did not take kindly to demon creatures.

For the first time in a long time, Link felt a grip of real _fear _strike through him. People did not take to demons… what would happen if he _failed_? He didn't even have a weapon anymore… _anything _could find him, destroy him. On that note, Link's thoughts took a darker trail.

What would these people do to him? Slaughter him, when he transformed? Burn him? Or perhaps simple abandon him to the mercy of these silenced woods?

_Demon_, a voice hissed from the back of his mind.

Link had long since given up telling the voice to shut up; it would have to go away _sometime_.

Leaning back on his palms, Link watched Sir Gabriel fall backwards deliberately, resting as he kept an eye on the young Bess. Apparently after having been locked away for so long, the girl's legs still needed stretching. She raced about, despite Cornell's half-hearted attempts to call her back. Link figured that Cornell had enough empathy in him to allow the poor girl to continue to speed across the grass, "examining" the gate that blocked their way to the Villa.

Cornell… a strange man, in Link's opinion. Rather quiet—not so much in his lack of words, but even within his words. Almost from the moment they had met, there had been little hostility towards him from Cornell, and after everything, the man seemed almost…

… _kind_? _Trusting_?

No. No one could earn someone's trust that fast—but still, Link sensed something from Cornell. And being the first genuinely humane person—that Carrie girl hadn't hurt him, but was ridiculously _aggressive_—Link wasn't about to lose the man's trust with his unfortunate secret. _By the end of tomorrow night, you're bound to—_it didn't matter. Link would make sure he was on his own by then, regardless of whether the vampire girl had been killed or not.

Eyes to the ground, Link let a soft breeze shudder past him, tugging at his green tunic and Kokiri hat. Shifting slightly, Link's eyes continued to bore a hole into the deadened grass below him. Off in the distance though, he was almost certain he heard a clattering of leather shoes against stone. _Almost _certain hardly mattered though. At this point, Link was too tired to even get up. Let the damn demon come, let Link be slaughtered where he stand. There was no way Link would was getting up _again_ after that climb up the tower.

Cornell seemed to have noticed though, and from where he stood by the gate, he turned to face the entry way. Link, in spite of himself, glanced towards the entryway, and—

"Link?" a voice queried. Breaking earlier promise, Link felt himself jumping up to his feet. He broke into a run towards the blue-haired, green-clad girl.

"Carrie!" Link exclaimed. He was being ridiculous, he knew. They had agreed to part ways, for both their own goods, it had been completely solid… but still. Link could not help but feel a bit of warmth at a familiar face.

At the moment, the said face had a look of utter fear painted across it as she looked beyond Link. Reaching her, Link wasn't entirely sure what to say. Within arms reach, he could have said something, or shook her hand, or even have _hugged_ her or something, instead of simply remaining silently stationary. Carrie shifted over a bit, so she could be hidden behind him. She opened her mouth, and looked as though she were about to speak when, suddenly, from behind, another person broke through the shadows.

Link gave a start of his own, and instinctively backed up.

"Cornell!" the man cried, blonde ponytail swinging behind him. "Look, here she is, so—"

Cornell raised his eyebrows, but didn't move. Instead, he only said,

"Carrie? Is that you?" In front of him, Carrie tensed. Link raised an arm instinctively, gripping Carrie's upper arm. _If they know her… _Link watched her face, a question written on his own. Carrie barely met his eyes, but in display of her normal self, she shrugged Link's hand off of her. Eyes still locked to the blades of grass, Carrie replied weakly,

"Y-yes, Cornell?" Link raised an eyebrow. One of the rare times Carrie had dropped her voice in… intimidation, was it? _Does she have reason to be scared? _Tensing slightly, Link did not look over his shoulder.

He heard footsteps approach from behind, and within moments Cornell was standing beside the two.

"Carrie!" was all the older man could exclaim, throwing his arms around the girl. A look of mingles fear and relief crossed the girl's face, and she wrapped her own arms around the man. Then, Link supposed, there was no reason to worry… ?

* * *

_Dammit all, about time we got down from the tower_. Why on earth anyone would make something _that _tall was beyond Henry—but then, the knight was too busy watching Carrie approach a young man clad in green… with a strange, jester-like hat… with…

_Him! From… before_… the one Henry had been rather harsh with, after he'd saved Anthony. Or something rather—Henry snorted, not feeling particularly guilty. In these forests, no one could be truly trusted. Not just that—being back here, in this damn Villa he'd sworn he'd never return to… dammit. The last thing Henry wanted to do was act host to the long shed-off home, even if no one knew of _this _part of his past.

Save, of course, a loyal Captain. A Captain which had shot up to the blue-haired girl, and thrown his arms around the girl. The green-clad boy backed away, and moved to sit by the fire, uneasy look on his face. Henry glared—he still could not be sure who the child was, and he wasn't about to let it go.

"You!" was all he could exclaim, storming over to the fire. Which, in essence, wasn't entirely fair—the boy _had _saved Anthony's life, after all. Ignoring the thought completely, Henry saw the young man glance up at him, mild alarm sprung over the lad's face. Glaring, Henry stood over the young man and barked, "Who _are _you?"

Carrie glowered back, and she was about to rise to her feet when the young man grabbed her arm gently. Amazingly, she agreed and sulkily sat back down. The boy, leaning back on his palms, said carefully but casually,

"Link—I believe I already told you."

Yes—_Link_, that had most definitely been the boy's name. Link's face impassive, Henry felt his own temper rising. This _boy_ of an _elf _was practically _mocking him_ and… argh! Carrie must have seen the danger signs, because she leapt to her feet, prepared to fight back. Eyes narrowed, she growled,

"Henry, I swear—"

"Carrie!"

There was a sharp voice from behind Henry, and he recognized the voice as his Captain's. Cornell sounded upset—a rare thing, especially with Carrie. Henry narrowed his eyes, watching the glare on Carrie's face melt as she edged back to the Captain. Cornell was speaking to her in a hushed, strained voice—and Carrie didn't look in the least bit happy. Easy to tell from the way she was biting her lip and blowing her bangs out of her eyes. Henry shook his head, knowing that there would be hell to pay for her. A thought triggered in Henry's mind—_now_, back to the matter at _hand_,

"What are you doing here?" Henry demanded. Link sighed, and his gaze dropping to the dirt ground, he responded,

"I have business to take care of; none of which that concerns you."

Henry snorted, and was about to snap a response when—

"Carrie! I won't hear it—you're coming back; you've no idea—"

"_No_! _You _have no idea! I—the children—you can't just—"

"_Carrie_! Stop it! Get some rest, we head home—"

"You can't make me!"

Henry winced, momentarily forgetting his interrogation of Link. The young man too, seemed intrigued by the argument that had broken about between Carrie and Cornell. Rather amazing, to say the least; in all his days, Cornell had rarely become angered with Carrie.

Carrie had pulled away, and was glaring heatedly at the Captain. Only it wasn't a complete fire that blazed in the girl's eyes—the emptiness that danced with the flames gave away that much. Henry knew the girl well enough to foresee the dramatic outburst.

"Carrie," Cornell cut in, warning evident in his voice. "We've all been worried sick; I _told _you, I'll take care of Samuel. Everyone's merely worked up over Rebirth—_Carrie_…"

"Cornell! Stop it! You don't get it, all right? Do you _really _think Winde is just going to welcome me back with open arms? Going to apologize? Going to—"

"Stop that, Carrie!" Cornell had broke in, anger striking a clear aim. Carrie looked taken aback for a second, before opening her mouth to rebuttal.

"No, Carrie—_hear me out_; Carrie, I—" Cornell cut her off quickly though, but his words lingered. Carrie—as Henry had expected—recovered quickly and snapped,

"I _can _hear you, you know. I'm not _deaf _or something, I swear, Cornell, I'm going regardless, so I won't—"

"You will _not_." Carrie stumbled for a moment at the snappish response she had received, but before she could continue, Cornell—surprisingly—pulled the girl close to him again and wrapped firm arms around her in an embrace. He spoke again, more softly—so softly, that from where he was, Henry could not hear.

Carrie said nothing, only wriggled out of Cornell's grasp and walked away glumly, back to Link. Cornell sighed, and moved towards Henry. A compassionate look spreading over Henry's harsh face; it seeped into his voice as well when he said to his Captain,

"Cornell—she'll be all right. You know how she's like." Henry had even been tactful enough to keep any cursing from his voice. Cornell offered a vague smile, then sat down, surprisingly, next to Link. Carrie, still sulking, stood up and wandered over to the still closed gates. Rolling his eyes, Cornell motioned to link with a wave of his hand,

"Link, son, pass me a canteen—there's a good lad…"

* * *

Finally resting, Cornell sat cross legged on the ground in front of the campfire, across from Link. The young man was as silent as he; whatever was running through his mind, Cornell could not be sure. Cornell was dying to ask the lad questions; _how do you know Carrie? Was she all right when you met? Is she all right now? _And though he tried to reduce the question to dust in mind, Cornell couldn't help but wonder, _you haven't hurt her, have you? _

Bitter guilt tingled at the edges of Cornell's mind—no, the boy would not have. Cornell have nothing to go by really aside from their encounter in the tower, but Cornell could… trust the lad. So far, he hadn't given Cornell any reason to doubt his intentions, even if there was an aura of a strange past behind him. What _had _the vampiress in the tower been talking about?

Casting Link a sidelong glance, he was grateful that Link seemed to preoccupied to notice. The young man's piercing blue eyes were focused intently on the ground; for a moment, concern crept into Cornell for the boy.

"Is something wrong, Link?" Cornell asked, tilting his head sideways. Link glanced up, no doubt surprised by the interruption to his reverie. A ghost of a smile on his lips, Link shook his head.

"Just—my weapon. I had planned on moving forwards to Castlevania; I'm not entirely sure how I'll do that, now."

Quite a bit of speech for the normally quiet lad. Cornell offered a smile of solace in return and replied,

"You know, I'm sure there's some spare blades we have on the pack horse. I could find something for you."

Link nodded in appreciation, but still did not appear particularly satisfied—or at ease, for that matter. Link cocked his head back, and eyes glittering for a moment with… _surprise_? _Amusement_? _… guilt_? Cornell met his gaze expectantly when Link opened his mouth to say,

"Thank you."

Cornell almost rolled his eyes—he _did _spend far too much time with Carrie, dammit—but honestly. He really couldn't have expected some sort of explanation from the blond. Deciding that he may as live up to that promise now, Cornell moved to the horses.

He had barely had time to dig through the saddlebags when a sudden shout interrupted his actions.

"_Cornell_!"

Whirling, Cornell whipped out his Templar on instinct. That had been Carrie's voice, no doubt… but…

… eyes moving to before the now-open gates, Cornell understood.

These beasts were surely from the pits of Hell—three-headed dogs, snarling and spitting flames, with black coats that gleamed even in the earliest of dawn, anger seeming to reinforce its dark eyes. Cornell moved forwards to strike—but was thrown backwards by a fireball from one of the demons.

"Dammit!" he roared, climbing to his feet quickly. Cornell rolled his shoulder muscles, preparing for battle. _Bess – Bess can't fight, we have to_— "Henry! Grab—" Cornell didn't bother to waste more breath—the blond man was off to the far right corner of the lot, and already had Bess stationed behind him. Mild relief setting in, Cornell sidled lefts, never taking his eyes off the beasts. For a second, Cornell contemplated where to strike, but the demon made up his mind for him – lunging, the monster clawed at him, spit burning the Captain slightly.

Cornell was knocked to the ground, flipping out of the way of another onslaught quickly. He only just staggered back to his feet before another one—_how many are there?_—sprang up with flashing teeth. Raising his sword, Cornell managed to parry the blow. Reversing his blade quickly, he used the pommel to bash the head of the beast. It whimpered, toppling to its side.

Cornell took advantage of the moment to glance up for Carrie. The sight was by no means encouraging.

"Carrie!" Cornell tried to call over to her. She stood closer to the gate with Link nearby, fending off the beasts as best he could with his bow and arrow. Two more of the beasts were impeding on the brief view he could get of her—_dammit_, if only Cornell was on the _other side _of this lot.

Another beast took advantage of his momentary distraction, pouncing at him. Cornell threw himself sideways, allowing the dog to pass by. Rapidly though, the dog swiveled around and prepared to attack again—Cornell back up, only to fumble on the first beast he'd knocked to the ground. Realizing the first still was not dead, Cornell twisted the blade around in his hand, and impaled it into the thick skin of the beast.

_Serves you right._

Wrenching the blade around the beast a bit, Cornell was able to rip it free just in time to back away. The body when dead, it seemed, was just as hellish as alive. As the dog let out a moan of despair, it's corpse burst into a lotus flower of flame. Luckily for Cornell though, the second beast had decided to leap at Cornell—only to get caught in the flames, wounding itself. Cornell jumped, glancing around again.

"Carrie?! Carrie! What are you—" Yet _another _beast—there were six left now, from what looked like an original nine—had obscured his view of the other side, but what he had saw had not been anymore pleasing then the last. Carrie was not fighting—no, she was down on her knees, in what seemed like apparent fatigue; Cornell could tell from the pale, strained skin on her face and the weak orbs that flew around her. _Dammit—_this was not the first time Carrie's powers had faltered from prolonged use, but _now _was _not _the time for that happen.

If it was any consolation, Link was still avidly trying all he could to protect the girl, including casting some strange, hazy diamond around her. Well, Cornell could only _hope _that was meant for protection—_stop it_. The boy could be trusted, Cornell was sure.

It wasn't until Cornell had fallen onto his face, and felt the claws of a beast sinking into him that he snapped back to attention.

Not able to turn around because of the weight on his back, Cornell maneuvered his sword to take a stab at the beast's legs. _Shit_—no such luck. And the claws were sinking deeper… Cornell's vision was blurring, slowly…

… the beast suddenly howled, collapsing sideways with another wretched moan as it burst into flames. _What the_—just before its body disappeared entirely, Cornell saw an arrow glowing with light embedded through its head. Cornell did not even need to glance up to understand.

Sweeping his gaze over the ground, Cornell did a quick casualty count—none of his men down (though a few looked badly injured), but five beasts had been slain. Four to go, and with a glimpse upwards, Carrie could still barely summon any strength.

Four more to go, and Cornell's weariness would set in soon. There were injured knights about, there was Bess… there were four more to go. Biting his lip, Cornell called out while parrying another demon's attack,

"Link!" No luck. "_Link!_" The young man looked up—he had pulled out a dagger now, and was trying his best to continue to fight for himself and for Carrie. Moving forwards as much as he could before another demon attacked, Cornell only just managed to hurl his Templar at Link. It landed with a soft thud, planted upright in the ground by the boy. "Take the sword, Link! Get Carrie out of here!"

Cornell's heart swelled with more pain then his body was enduring—he had _just _found the girl, and already he may have been losing her again. Cornell remembered what he had told to the girl, "_I lost your mother to this place… I won't lose you too_."

And he wouldn't. He swore he wouldn't—Juanita had caused him enough disquiet while she was alive… her death had only tripled that. Carrie was the only reward he'd received for his efforts.

He saw Link nod—a soldier taking his orders, Cornell could see—and grab Carrie by the arm, sword in the other hand. They raced through the now open gates, into the fog shrouding the Villa up ahead—that was all Cornell could make out, before the demon dogs gathered at the entrance, guarding it.

Preparing to slash forwards, Cornell gritted his teeth. He could not allow their departure to distract him—the sooner he got rid of these demons, the sooner he could catch up with the two. Link would take care of Carrie for the time being—Cornell hoped. _Don't let my instincts be wrong; Lord, don't._

Cornell had meant every word to Carrie… he would _not_, absolutely _not_ lose _one more _Fernandez to this place. Never again—and if Link so failed on his word, then Cornell personally swore to slit the boy's throat.

* * *

_**DAY THREE: MORNING**_

Ignoring the pounding urge to run back to the fight and help the others, Link put his hands on his knees and breathed deeply. _It can't be helped—he asked you to protect her, it's the best you can do now_… Raising his head, he saw an almost-sobbing Carrie sitting on the ground, gripping the grass tightly. For once, anger and frustration were not prominent on her face – in fact, only… Link cursed silently, looking away. Whatever it was, it wasn't what Link was used to seeing.

Kneeling over, Link rested his arm on her shoulder – only to have it smacked away. _Never mind then – definitely still angry_. Link sighed, and said carefully,

"Carrie… we had to, I mean – " Carrie shook her head vigorously, cutting the young man off. With yet another sigh, Link stood back up. There was no way Carrie would listen to him now… shifting his attention to the ground, Link's vision brushed on the last-minute gift from Cornell.

_The Templar_… and a quite a gift indeed. A sword that Cornell had said he'd earned as a Captain of his guard? Then… why would he have trusted Link…? Link bit his lip, and glancing over at the still distraught Carrie, he began to wander around the Villa they'd entered.

Lining the Villa was a wooden fence, blocking off _tombstones_ from being treaded unjustly upon. In the center, stood an enormous fountain; water was flowing freely from the uppermost part, tinkling gently on the pool of aqua below it. Such a serene scene – in fact, the whole Villa seemed strangely… _quiet_. To his amazement, nothing had attacked for the first time in what seemed forever. Almost smiling lightly, Link turned around and said to Carrie,

"Look – I'm sure their…" _Fine_? _How can you be so damn sure? _"… fine. At least you'll be safe here, so they won't have reason to worry – "

"You _ass_!" Carrie snapped, picking herself up – frustration still written on her face. "You _think _that's supposed to make me feel better? When they're… they're… argh!" A roar of frustration escaped her, and she shoved past Link, heading forwards. Just _what_ exactly was supposed to be accomplished by moving _away _from the attack, Link wasn't entirely sure.

Shrugging, he followed after her, meeting her at the top steps of the mansion a ways ahead. Carrie was still fuming – but she must have given up in going back, though she would not meet his eye to admit it. Link felt a trickle of guilt… but in truth, Cornell had assigned him to protect the girl. It would be forsaking his duties if he went meandering back to… _demons. Disgusting, foul demons. _With fangs and claws and… and… _argh! Link, you have to _stop _with…_

His attention was brought back to the moment at hand though, when Carrie let out a curse and struck the doors of the mansion.

"Now, we can't even continue _onwards_, and he wanted – he had wanted…" Carrie stopped herself, and Link took a step towards her. Not knowing what to say, a moment of awkward silence fell between the two. However, Carrie was the first to snap her head up, and sneer,

"Well, if you're so all mighty and strong enough to take care of 'goddess'-damned _everything_, why don't you figure out how to get us inside?" Link frowned a bit, but knew better to say anything. He may only have known the girl for a day, but even he could see the fire of her temper was easily fed.

Lifting one hand to the door way, he pressed against it – and it swung open. He practically _heard _a scowl behind him, and turned to face Carrie. A confused look on his face, he asked,

"What exactly was so diffi – "

"Just be quiet! Get in, for goodness sake. I probably loosened it for you."

Link – in spite of everything that had just happened – smirked a bit once she had passed him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Once inside, Link glanced around him – immediately impressed. A crystal glass chandelier hung above them, casting shimmers on the velvet red carpet and smooth cherry wood floors they stood on. An enormous staircase was before them, separating into two paths. Tables upon tables lined the side walls, accented with a few unlit candles each. In saying so, it was easily concluded that inside would have been very dark – had it not been for the streamers of light thrown in past boarded up windows.

Link shuddered, not liking the sensation of _watching _that had come since stepping into the mansion. Carrie stood silent behind him, as though waiting for him to take the lead. Link gritted his teeth, and took the first few steps forwards. _One _– okay, he was still alive. Lifting his foot, he took another towards the staircase when –

"_And who enters here?_" a voice shrieked from above. _Above – damn, this can't possibly be good_. Dreading the worst, Link's gaze went to the ceiling, hand lingering over his sheath. Tensed a bit, he relaxed when he saw nothing. But Carrie burst out –

"Link! Dammit, over _there_!" Link whirled his head, following the blue-haired girl's gaze. _Come, see what damage you can do_…

"_Humans_?" The voice shrieked again, causing Link to wince. Link grip tightened on his sword, only to hear a hiss of laughter to follow. Link scowled, seeing a creature scuttle along the wall, like some sort of over-grown arachnid. Without all of the extra legs, that was.

The demon (which Link could now see had human form) did a whirling jump –

Link pulled his sword out a bit, flashing just enough metal for the demon to be wary…

– and the demon landed on the floor with a soft thud, dust lightly fluttering away from the now-tainted carpet.

Link inhaled sharply.

_Demon_. No, not just any demon: _vampire_.

Link's scowl deepened, and he pulled out his newly-acquired sword all together. _I am _not _allowing him to… if he finds out, I won't hear the end of it… _with a side-long glance to his stoic companion, Link swallowed. This would _not _end well if she… he… _damn_.

The vampire sneered from what it could of its demented face – this had to be one of the stronger ones, unlike the starved demons that he'd seen at the shack. A wrinkled, papery face wrought into a horrid, bloody mask spat,

"_Humans_, interrupting _my _resting grounds… unless you've come to offer something in exchange?" The vampire's eyes flicked to Carrie, and the girl scowled.

"Don't come _near _me, demon! I swear, if you – "

The vampire lunged.

Link reacted instantly, leaping sideways to block off the attack on his companion. Cornell's words were ringing in his mind, and he'd be damned if this would be the first time he'd defied an order. _Bastard demon_.

Having successfully parried the attack, Link rotated the blade in his hand, pointing it towards the demon.

"Go," Link snapped. He'd barely gotten a rest, he'd climbed, he'd fought, he… _argh_! Frustration writhing to be poured out, Link was amazed with himself he managed to keep his face completely tight.

Link started at the vampire's response. A smirk.

"Very well, brother," the vampire hissed, backing away. Link tensed, but made sure his face was set into a scowl. If the demon said _one more word_, then Link would – what was he waiting for, anyways? "I won't take a meal you earned for yourself."

The sword swiped at a puffy cloud of red smoke.

Link slammed the sword back into its scabbard, seething. _Dammit – he has no right, no _idea… _how had he known, anyways? Do I look like one of them already? _

_Oh Farore. Please no – not yet_.

Muscles too tight with paranoia and exhaustion to turn and face the girl. If she'd caught on, if she asked… what would he say? What if he turned around and looked like a monster? What if Link _attacked _her? _Damn vampires!_

"L-Link?" Carrie's voice was timid behind him. Link didn't turn around, but said in what he hoped was a casual voice,

"Yes?"

"What – what was he talking about? _'Brother'_?"

Link scowled for no particular reason, taking in a breath. It made no sense to keep it from her anyways – he'd be gone within the next few hours anyways. The evening of day three was approaching rapidly, and if she didn't know… he could… _but I wouldn't…_

… _you don't have a choice…_

"He was talking about me, obviously." Link was almost relieved to hear indignation and anger once again the dominant melodies of Carrie's voice. Anything but the timid apprehension he'd heard moments before. Turning as slowly as utterly possible, Link closed his eyes and said, "Me. He meant me."

"_What's that supposed to mean, Link_?"

Link winced a bit. All right, so the anger wasn't all that comforting. Eyes still closed, Link cursed himself silently when he said hastily,

"I-I didn't tell you everything when I – when we met. I – there was a girl, and she… a …" Carrie waited, and Link could hear her foot tapping impatiently on the floor. He could _see _her arms crossed, eyebrow raised. Licking dry lips, he reminded himself once again that if he was to remain around, she _had _to know the truth… "The Legacy of Darkness. She… I didn't understand… but now I know."

Carrie gasped at first, but managed to muffle it quickly. There were a few steps towards him, and Link braced himself for the worst. She asked, curiously,

"Well… how… "

"_How _what?"

"For how long have you been cursed?"

Link paused for a moment, before telling her, "Two evenings ago." Silence.

"Why…" Carrie began to pace, and Link chanced opening his eyes. The girl's back was to him, and Link couldn't help but feel glad he could not see her face. The horror, disgust and possible fear would have been too much to bear. _Maybe she'll just kill me now and do away with it… _

_Are you going to defend yourself? _Another voice asked.

Link grimaced, no answer surfacing. Carrie brought him back to reality though, when she asked softly,

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Link watched her, almost annoyed.

"What? Was I supposed to parade up to you and tell you _hello_, I'm a _demon_ and I'm lost – would you mind sticking around?" Link was shocked for a moment with himself – that most definitely not been himself talking. He had practically _sneered _at her – something he had never _considered _doing before.

Carrie whipped around – something clutched in her hands – and really _did _sneer at him.

"Didn't know you had _such _a sense of humour," she said dryly. And with that, the girl stormed ahead – up the stairs – without looking back.

For a moment, Link hesitated; he was reminded dimly of when the two had first met, back at the beaches near Rinaldo's. Even more so, when Carrie swept a glance over her shoulder to Link, calling out,

"Well, are you _coming_? Or is there something else I should know about your plans, huh?"

Startled, Link wouldn't have moved ahead if there hadn't been the traces of grim humour in Carrie's diction. Relief was still tingling in him, like the warmth of a red potion on deep-rooted wound. Exposing it had burned him, but maybe… it was for the best? Maybe… Carrie hadn't seemed to _particularly _mind… so…

The trail of thought continued in Link's mind, as he climbed the red-carpeted stairs, one gloved hand sliding along the golden railing that glittered from the candlelight of the chandelier. Once he reached the upper balcony of sorts that hung over the lower floor, Link moved towards Carrie – but she herself had already moved to the left, slipping towards the door. Granted, Carrie continued to regularly glance over her shoulder and encourage him onwards, so Link followed suit.

As he did, Link couldn't ignore the cancerous feeling of dread that was sprouting through him. The relief was long gone… why… why was Carrie barely speaking to him? Unless she was urging him to follow, she said nothing – Link could only speak to her shawled-back. Not that there was anything to say, really.

Link could not deny the utter _disturbance _of this new atmosphere between them.

Maybe… maybe Carrie… she was leading him somewhere fatal? Link winced at the thought as he passed through the doorway after Carrie, entering a strange, almost-outdoors hallway. There was a stone wall to his left, and to his right – and above him, as the ceiling – there were incredibly thick bushes to act as the adjoining wall. The wind still howled fiercely, and outside noises could be heard… but…

_Who designed this Villa_?

Who was fit to live here? The windows from earlier had been boarded up, for a creature like… _you_ – like a demon. A vampire.

_You_.

"Stop that," Link muttered to himself almost voicelessly, through gritted teeth. Up ahead, Link just reached another doorway that Carrie had passed through – _when _had they started playing cat and mouse, almost? Carrie was scooting ahead, and Link was just supposed to follow? _Wasn't that the original plan_? Well… yes, but Link was supposed to lose _sight _of her. If he did, not only would he have reason to be ashamed, but he'll have disappointed Cornell as well.

So it was Link's surprise when he threw open the doorway, to find Carrie standing completely still at the bottom of the small staircase, waiting for him. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she clearly wasn't going to move anywhere in this small circular room until he came down.

"Er… Carrie?"

"Link, for goodness' sake, come here! I think… I have an idea."

_Well_… somehow, Carrie having an idea at the moment didn't seem so bad – at least she was saying something to him. Although… Carrie didn't look angry. More… hesitant.

Stepping down the few stairs, Link approached Carrie with his eyes down. _She could very well want to kill you still_. She had every reason to.

"Wh-what is it, Carrie? If this is abou—"

Carrie shoved her fist at him, a strange emotion flickering in her eyes. Link backed away instinctively; for all he knew, it could have been some horrid weapon used to kill vampires and what not. Carrie rolled her eyes, and grabbed one of his hands. Link winced, but his eyes widened when he saw what she had put in it.

"Why… what's this for?" he asked, fist tightening around the pendant. The silver disc embedded with a crescent moon sapphire shone fiercely, even from the lack of light. Still staring at it in awe, Link didn't look up when Carrie said mildly,

"It's got purifying qualities – no, its not going to make the curse go away… but I've been thinking, and maybe… it can… prolong it." Link looked up, puzzled, and Carrie continued, "Like… the average is three days, right? I… I'm not actually sure about this… but if my guess is right…"

"Then I have a total of seven days."

Carrie looked up, a sheepish grin on her face. "I guess." Link, still feeling shaken up – and suspicious, for that matter. How could she… just…

"_Why_?"

Carrie watched him, confused. "Why what?"

"Why… why aren't you… I'm not…"

"Why haven't I stabbed the person who saved my life?" she asked rhetorically, as she leaned back onto a circular ledge, holding rosebushes. Link noted that she wasn't entirely meeting his eyes.

Link's gaze slipped away, and for a moment he cursed her. Cursed himself, at that. _When she says it like _that_, of course it's going to sound… _stupid. Ridiculous. Anger stirred inside of Link, but the warmth in his still outstretched palm quickly calmed that. If this pendant really worked, if it really…

"Thank you." Carrie waved a hand mildly over her shoulder as she stood up, circulating the small room as Link adjusted the pendant over his head. _Well, here's something_. It finally seemed as though Link's luck had taken a better turn.

* * *

"It won't work."

The still silence of the stone room was ruptured by the harsh tones. The voice continued, "It's far too vague, and it's taking far too much of a risk. You can not even be sure if it is he."

"He very well could be," another voice entered, as faintly as the flickering candlelight, as velvety as the red carpet the occupants stood on. Emerald tresses caught the light mildly, and emerald orbs glittered with malice. She continued, pacing the room gracefully, "I'm sure. I've spoken with him – with both. I was told – "

"It could have been a lie," the other voice snapped. Paper skin was rumpled and worn on the face, faded suit too dark to be seen well in the dying light of the candles. "You're abilities are hardly considered superior, so it's best – "

"Do you forget who you speak too, Servant?" the woman hissed. The other voice silenced, and the man looked away. Content smirk on her face, the woman said, "I'm sure of it. He – the potential is there. If the Inspirer can come to him, we may yet have found what my dearest Uncle desired."

The man nodded, and began to pace around the coffin centered in the room. Finally, he asked,

"And what of the child? The ninth day draws near, and if the soul is not re-awakened… "

"_Silence_ – I _told _you, it has been taken care of. Just do your part, Servant, and the matter shall be disposed of safely." The woman, now seemingly done with the inferior, turned her back to him. In a matter of moments, the woman was swallowed in a gust of crimson smoke – and the man remained, settling back into the midnight coffin. Time would tell – but if it did not hurry, silence could ring before a word was spoken.

* * *

Eyes studying the stones and roses around her, Carrie allowed Link the silence to think. Although, in the short walk from the foyer to here, Carrie had done quite some thinking herself.

_Vampire… the Legacy… why? _

Why him? Or why hadn't he told you? _I was _traveling _with him, for goodness sake. What if he had Turned, and he could have… he might have…_

… _but you gave him more time. He's already proven his intentions to you, and you've repaid the numerous times he's saved you_. The last thought sounded almost like Cornell speaking. Thinking back to the father-figure she'd left behind, Carrie felt a churning sensation of guilt reel over her. What if… the demon dogs… they could have… they might have… _stop! Cornell would not have sent you ahead if he wasn't going to see you again_. Even in her head, the logic didn't make any sense – but it was enough to sooth her inside, for now.

Focus back on the room, Carrie took it in – built entirely of stone, which was strange. The rest of the Villa seemed a bit more modern, only built of wood and furnished rather elegantly. But that wasn't what got to her the most, why she was spending a bit longer in this room: no, a stench was coming from this room – flowers. However, not being an expert on such things, Carrie had to study her surroundings before – _there_.

It was not very hard to find at all.

The small room was _lined_ with roses on a low shelf, and the center of the room had a large pillar, which was _also _surrounded in said flowers – which she had leaned into, no doubt. _Dammit_, Link's curse was hanging over her head… nothing had penetrated the wall of thought. But even now, Carrie frowned – flowers had never been her interest – seemed like something Beth would have been delighted with.

"What, by the goddesses, are – " Carrie _almost _laughed at Link's exclamation – at least he had recovered from the momentary shock of the gift. But he seemed even less fond of the crimson beauties than she. Link made his way around the atrium, studying the flowers closely. Looking up at Carrie, he said, "How are these _here_?"

Carrie shrugged in response, tugging at one of the roses. She winced suddenly and pulled back though – a thorn had bit her flesh, and blood was running down her index finger. Frowning a little, Carrie sucked on the wound. Glancing up at her companion, she saw he was watching her strangely for a moment, almost fascinated with the scratch – a strange sensation came to her, but Carrie couldn't remember from where – and Carrie quickly scowled.

"Stop that – at least _pretend _the pendant is working, for my sake." Link gave a start and dropped his gaze, almost embarrassed. Carrie continued to glare, only softening when she saw a sadness creeping onto the blond's face. _It's not his fault… _all the same though, she had to keep him in check, or… _don't think about it. He won't attack – he's too strong. _He had to be, or Cornell – _don't think like that _– wouldn't have trusted him.

"Carrie," Link asked, voice softer – eyes still not meeting hers. "Don't you think… these roses are…"

"Unnatural?" Carrie said bluntly. He was right – nothing seemed to live in the Villa to care for these roses, and the vibrancy of their coloured screamed for attention. Sighing, Carrie made her way to a small door at the end of the room.

"Link, just forget it," she said wearily, pushing open the oak door. "They're probably some ridiculous demon flower or something of the sort… just don't frolic about in them and you'll be fine."

From over her shoulder, Carrie saw Link frown, but move to follow her anyways. Rolling her eyes, she continued to go through – only to come across a small staircase. _Wonderful _– if she had to do anymore climbing, Carrie was certain she'd fall over and simply die from exhaustion. A pitiful waste of her life – _and others'… don't think like that, Carrie. They're fine. _

As she made her way up the oaken staircase – which was by far, less stable than the grand one from the entrance room – she saw a number of paintings along the wall. Most were hand painted portraits… of previous owners of the Villa, she assumed. But to add to the deadened weight in her stomach, she saw a number of slash marks across a few – strips of canvass hung loose, in a mockery of what could have happened to the faces. Carrie winced and averted her eyes.

Once at the top of the stairs, Carrie again found herself staring down a chandelier-lit, velvet-red carpeted, eerily silent hallway. Only this one had stain glass windows adorning the walls, deathly still. The hall itself was rather short – and upon reaching the end of it, Carrie saw that it forked left, and down at the end of _that _path it turned left again. Doors aligned the walls the whole way. Carrie was about to continue walking when –

"Carrie, _stop_ for a moment already." Link sounded as weary as she felt, and turning, she saw he was sagging against the wooden walls of the hall. Carrie frowned – for someone who had seemed so unbreakable for, he definitely looked weak _now_. A shudder ran through her, making her whole back ache – _you're not much better off yourself. _

Scowling, Carrie stormed over to Link.

"_Fine _– we'll just go _here_." Carrie threw open the door Link was nearby – and peered inside. Nothing particularly dangerous – a few random chairs strewn about, a shelf on books to one side… and a large, quilted bed in the corner of the room, right across from another wooden door. Carrie was about to take a step forwards, when Link pulled her back. She glared angrily up at him, but he said – face still looking rather tired –

"Let me go in first."

"Don't be stupid, you look like you're about to pass out. Just – " Carrie wrenched her arm free of his grasp, and made her way forwards " – trust _me _to take the lead, so – "

Just as Carrie approached it, the door across the bed flew open.

* * *

"Stop! Don't move; not even a finger!"

Link tensed and his hand was already wrapped around his hilt by the time the person came into view. Not one that looked to be a particularly large threat – he was an elderly gentleman, with white hair and a moustache to go with it. An enormous cross was slung over the back of his golden trench coat, and the man held another cross in his hand as he stormed over, circling both Carrie and Link.

What, in Hyrule, the crosses were _for_, Link couldn't be sure, but –

"All right! You appear to be human enough." The man tucked away his cross, and folded his arms disapprovingly regardless.

"Well, _obviously_! What did you think?" Carrie snapped angrily, blue bangs shaken away from her face. The man snorted in response, anger piercing his own blue eyes.

"From the way you barged into here, I had every right to believe you would attack."

"_Us_? Attack? You were the one that nearly knocked me down, with the way you threw yourself into the room!"

The man said nothing at first, only snorted again and looked away from her. His eyes now on Link, he asked him,

"What are villagers doing in this place of demons, anyways? It's not safe!" Link frowned – he had already taken a strong dislike to the man's pompous aura. Much like that Schneider fellow he'd met a while back, only this man was stricter. Link was about to open his mouth to reply, but Carrie cut in with,

"We're here to hunt Dracula!"

_What_? That hadn't been on the agenda, last time Link had checked. When… where… what was Carrie talking about? Link, again, was going to cut in… but somehow, the point seemed lost on him. Instead, he busied himself with adjusting his sword in its sheath – the man did not seem like he was going to attack, but there was no harm in a warning.

"Ha! Leave Dracula to the professionals, silly girl. That's a job meant for someone like myself."

"You presume too much! Old men like yourself are better off in your cozy little homes, being watched over by your wives!"

"Obstinate youth! How dare you speak to me like that! I'll warn you now – an amateur like yourself should stick to the forest, hunting Skeletons and the likes. Leave this place!"

And yet, in complete contradiction to himself, the man stormed out past Link, through the door. He had drawn out his cross again, and was mumbling to himself the entire way.

"_Dammit_, how I _hate_ men like him… think they can control everyone, and everything, with their stupid swords and stupid faith and stupid crosses… " Carrie continued muttering to herself as she paced the room. Link was utterly speechless, but Carrie remedied that when she snapped,

"And _you_ – you had better be thankful that he didn't catch you! You could have at least _said _something, you – "

Link couldn't help but grin to himself – at least Carrie was back to her normal self around him. Carrie's glower deepened at his expression, but Link still went ahead and asked,

"What are you talking about? I don't look anything like a demon yet, I – "

"Ugh, the _cross_, Link," Carrie insisted, now looking more frustrated than angry.

"What?" Link blinked – no bells rung yet. Carrie sighed, and shook her head,

"Link… look. Vampires are vulnerable to holy sorts of things, you know? Like, crosses are divine, and have been blessed… you'd better… just be careful, okay?"

Link nodded his head, a new thought sparking though. _If crosses can hurt me… what about… _the Goddesses? The Triforce? His Ocarina? Were these all not blessed objects… what would happen with those?

_You still have four days, calm down, Link_.

But then, they wouldn't be of much use, if Link started losing himself in more than just soul, would it?

* * *

Carrie scowled – oh, great, now Link was all lost-in-thought and sulky. This wasn't going to help – not one bit. Link needed the facts if he was going to get by, and she was only trying to help.

"Carrie, just forget about him," he offered, one hand rubbing his eyes. Carrie was confused for a moment – dammit, he must have been misinterpreting her hostility. She continued to glare, though – partly in concern now. Link really _did _look exhausted, and was carrying far more wounds than she was…

"You're right," Carrie agreed, sullenly. No sense putting up a fight with someone as worn down as her companion was. Trying to put on a brighter expression, she asked, "How about we tuck in for the night, hmm? I think we could both use the rest." Link looked at her gratefully – Carrie was _certain _he wouldn't have said it first – and nodded in agreement.

"That'd be a good idea – as long as we wake up early, I s'ppose…" Link was cut off by a loud yawn, and the young man quickly laid down on the floor next to the bed. Carrie scoffed, and said,

"What are you _doing_?" Link, with his eyes still closed, replied,

"Sleeping, obviously. Climb into the bed and do the same – we should leave as soon as possible… who knows what's crawling around the place…" Carrie could tell that despite his warnings, he was far too tired to honestly care. Another demon dog could have burst into the room, and Link would have just lain there. Carrie snorted – _men_.

"You're not sleeping on the floor, elf." Link raised an eyebrow at the name, but he remained quiet. Carrie stamped her foot in frustration – stupid men like him, always had to be so goddamn _chivalrous_… "Link! Get up! Why do I have to take the bed?"

At this, Link did open his eyes – as heavy as they may have been. Almost automatically, he said,

"Because… it's not right. I couldn't sleep on the bed, knowing that you'd be on the floor."

"_Why_? Huh, Link?" Link winced a bit here, and responded,

"Because you're… you're…"

"A _woman_, right? What? So, I'm _softer _than you? _Weaker_ than you?" That could very well have been true – in fact, Link was a lot stronger than Carrie, from what she'd seen, but _still_. Didn't mean he could just _assume _she was some damsel who needed to be treated like… like… argh! Link winced at her response, not knowing what to say.

"Just take the bed, Link!" Carrie cried out, feeling thoroughly angered. "Goodness – or I – I'll…"

Carrie stormed over to the foot of the bed, and threw herself down. _Fine_, if Link wanted to take the floor, he could. But that did _not _mean Carrie had to take the _bed_. Link shifted a bit, and demanded,

"Carrie, what are you doing?"

"Sleeping, obviously."

"On the _floor_?"

"I could say the same to you, Mister Oh-So-Knightly."

Link snorted from where he lay, but did not offer any more complaints. Carrie, feeling very smug, attempted to get comfortable on the rough blue carpet of this particular room. The velvet red would have been welcomed, but… ah well. It sort of matched her hair, anyways. Before giving into fatigue, Carrie called out,

"'Night, Link."

"Goodnight, Carrie."

Carrie could have sworn she heard a bemused laugh in his voice. She scowled a bit, feeling as though the point hadn't exactly gotten across to Link.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Woot! Done Chapter Eleven… one of the shorter ones yet, thank goodness. No one wants to read thirty page chapters, including myself. Sorry about all that guys; I'm gonna try and keep 'em down in size from now on, so woohoo. Reviews are welcome and much appreciated, but even if not – thanks for reading!_oHow_


	12. Thorn of a Rose

**The Legend of Zelda: Legacy of Darkness**

**Author's Note: **I'm back in action! Mostly because its holidays, and life has slowed down enough to bring this chapter to you! Thank you for all of your awesome support… and so sorry for the long wait with this chapter!

Oh, and while uploading, FFnet did that thing where it smashes words together... I tried stay vigilant, but I'm not sure if I caught them all. Sorry if I didn't.

DISCLAIMER: I don't have any legal rights over anything but the intertwining, okay?

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve: The Thorn of a Rose**_

* * *

_**DAY FOUR: DAWN**_

_Wind was grazing past Link – he could feel it tugging at his tunic and his Kokiri cap. Around him, the gentle rustling of wind between leaves locked in his comfort. This was not the place of the dead… here, this forest was bursting with life. Cerulean eyes sweeping around him, Link took it in._

_The Lost Woods._

_Not the treacherous ones where he had found the skeletons… no, this was more familiar territory, the areas of the forest closer to the Kokiri Village. Moving through the woods as well as he could, Link made his way to the entry that he remembered. _

_If these were the woods, then… Saria would be here. She would be here, like she was always there when he had been growing up with these eternal children. Growing up…_

_Link glanced down at his hands; there were no gauntlets, nor were they calloused, or even particularly large. For a moment, Link stopped walking in the hazy light and soft winds of the forest. Turning and adjusting his body, Link quickly came to a conclusion: time had not passed here, and the body of a child was still his. _

_Feeling even lighter now, Link began racing to the glowing light of the entry to the Kokiri Village. _No Spiritual Stones, no Sages, no war… _he'd come to the entry now, and once he came to the small fence overlooking the village, Link searched quickly for his old friend._

_Then Link heard it from behind: a crunching of boots on dead leaves, and the gentle tinkling notes from an ocarina. Link whirled._

"_Sari – your… your Highness?" Link had only just managed the proper address for the blonde girl in front of him. White and pink cloth wrapped around her for a headdress, and also as the dominant colours of her dress. Her large, crystal blue eyes widened when she saw Link, and she removed the ocarina from her lips. _Wait… isn't that…? _It had been, hadn't it? The green and white paint was fading, and the instrument was only meant for a child's grip. _

_The Fairy Ocarina. Saria's._

_But then what was it doing in the hands of the Princess Zelda?_

"_Link, I've been looking everywhere for you! You must come, there's something at the castle that – "_

"_Why do you have her ocarina?" Link cut in suddenly. Any other time, he would have been aware of his blunt discourtesy towards the heiress of the Royal Family – right now, that hardly mattered. Somehow, one of his oldest and most trusted friend's gifts was sitting in the Princess' hand, and somehow, Link wasn't the least bit comfortable with it. _

"_Wha-what, Link? That's not important, right now, its – "_

"_Give it back!" Link cut in once again, demanding. Anger was pounding in his veins, racing through his childish palms as they tightened into small fists._

"_Link?"_

"_I want it _back_!" Link burst out, moving towards her. The princess, looking utterly startled, moved back instinctively, clutching the instrument protectively._

"_What are you talking about?" she began, desperation clear. Fear was tingling in her eyes, and it was only provoking the child-Link further. "Link, this is my family's! It's been passed down by the Monarchy in Hyrule for as long as the legend of the Triforce!_Link_! Look!"_

_Once she held it out for him, Link did a double take and jumped backwards._She's right, you know._ No! Link argued. He had just seen… _it doesn't matter now, so for the love of the Goddesses, just apologize. _I… _

"_Prin-princess… I'm sorry, I didn't…" Link began, still completely confused. The Fairy Ocarina had become the Ocarina of Time, its robust blue paint glimmering slightly in the bright afternoon sun over the Kokiri Village. Furrowing his brow, Link was about to continue, when Princess Zelda held up a hand to silence him. _

"_It's all right, Link, I understand," and suddenly her voice was lighter, stronger, more mature. And suddenly, Link had to tilt his head backwards just to look up at her. _

"_Zelda?! What… what's going…" This was no time for titles and the likes – the Princess had rapidly grown into a young woman before him; she now resembled what she had looked like that last time Link saw her, a number of months ago. Glancing down at his hands and bare legs though, Link was aware that he still remained a child._

_The Princess smiled down reassuringly during his flabbergastion, and held out something for him. _

"_Link, don't worry. I will take care of things, all right?"_

_At first, Link thought it was going to be the Ocarina – but instead, in her hand, was a crimson rose. _

"_Your_Majesty_! I don't understand – " He was cut off though, when the Princess pushed the rose onto him, and Link eventually opened his hand and accepted it. _

"_Farore!" Link cursed, dropping the flower suddenly. The rose, unfortunately, hadn't been tended to, with thorns still pricking out. Examining the wound, Link found himself fascinated with the fluid oozing out. A red so dark it was almost black, forming a small, lumped circle as it gathered on his digit. The light caught it, bringing out the luscious red as the small mountain avalanched down his finger._

Stop it, Link_. The small, warm rivulets of blood ran down his thumb, and Link raised the thumb closer to his face. Suddenly, it was very cold and Link was very alone – no village, no ocarina, no Princess. And suddenly, Link had never been happier for the solitude. _

_The smell. Oh Goddesses, it had to be the smell._

_The warm, fresh, _vital_ scent wafted towards him, and somewhere in his mind, Link was vaguely aware that this was a dream. But this, _this_ was so real… so…_

"Dammit!" Link sat up with a start, clutching his hand to his chest. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes with his other hand, Link quickly glanced down his hands. Yes, they were all there, calloused and muscled as ever. Glancing down at himself, Link remembered having awoken briefly in the middle of the night to disarm himself and strip off the thick travelling cloak he bore. The cloak, he had bundled up and, after peeking over at Carrie to make sure she didn't need it, he had settled the makeshift pillow under his head. However, his legs were not bare, but clothed in his white leggings just as he remembered.

At least he hadn't _actually _shrunk and gone back to being a child – one time was more than enough for that experience.

Now that his mind had cleared, Link was quickly able to find the thread to the end of the dream. _What had…_? Link studied his hand very carefully – no wounds, no blood. _But… the sensation had been so real… _Link laid back down, slowly, now that his breathing had calmed. _Just lie down, Link; don't think about it. _You were so close; you could have given in. _But I didn't… it was a dream. _So you were fantasizing, then. _No!_

Groaning, Link squeezed his eyes shut and forced the argument from his mind. His cloak was a rough substitute for a pillow, scratching at his bare neck since he had removed his cap. His shaggy blond hair was scattered against his cloak and shimmering in the moonlight; Link breathed deeply.

And sat up almost immediately.

_This _is_real… dammit! _Scrambling to his feet, Link paused where he stood and took another deep breath of the smell penetrating the room, to be certain. Yes, yes it was there.

_Blood_! It _had _to be! The scent that had been wafting towards him from his own cut – Link recoiled in disgust at the thought, _drinking his own blood_ – it was now practically _flooding _the room. For Link, it was, anyways – Carrie remained completely still in her sleep, only shifting every-so-often.

Blood.

There were only two possible answers: something had been killed recently in this place, or a predator was carrying the stench of a fresh victim.

Link wasn't sure which one was worse.

But whatever it was, it needed to be taken care of, and quickly. Dropping to his knees, Link groped about in the dim light of dawn for only his sword and hat. Link stuffed his cap on, and ripped the Templar from its scabbard, leaving the sheath behind. Stumbling, Link got to his feet and shot out through the door of the room.

The _smell_. For the love of Nayru, where was it _coming_ from?

As ridiculous as it felt, Link lifted his head up and sniffed, searching through the many layers of the scent to find some kind of clue. Standing in the hallway, with the blue carpet under his feet and the morning light only just beginning to filter through stained-glass windows, Link concentrated.

_There_ – to the right of him, from where he and Carrie had arrived. The general direction, anyways. Grip tight on his sword, Link moved quickly towards the oaken staircase, not particularly caring that it wobbled as he raced down it.

He was getting closer. _Goddesses_, the source was _right there_, it was –

_Four-saken roses. _

He should have known, known right from his dream – he should have recognised the tingling scent of the flower amongst the thick smell of flesh and blood. Circling the small, oblong room, Link felt the maddening rush of blood through his own body. _Why _did these roses smell… it was coming from _this room_, Link was absolutely positive…

Link paused for a moment, studying a particular patch of roses carefully. His eyes shifted through the leaves and petals, through the stems and thorns – unsuccessful.

"Please step aside," a voice suddenly penetrated Link's frenzied concentration, and the blond whirled. A young woman stood near him, her bright blonde hair hanging around a sickly, blue-tinged face. Her expression was an odd one: a dreamy, almost vacant expression adorned her, and even her mahogany eyes seemed hazy. On her slim – almost stick-like – frame, she wore a simple pink dress hemmed in white. She took a few light steps after Link moved over, and the woman continued in a dazed voice, "I wish to water the roses."

"Who – " Link, now almost completely out of his panic, struggled to gather the words together. "Who are you?" The woman, clutching a watering can to her chest, looked at him vaguely, and replied simply,

"I am Rosa; I look after these white roses."

"_White_ roses?" Link gave a start. _Since when were they ever…?_Watching Rosa, however, he understood with a sharp realisation. As she poured the watering can over the 'white' roses, _blood_ came filtering out for the roses to absorb. Link tensed – the stench, while putrid, was intoxicating to his addled brain – and hissed quietly, "You… you're a vampire?" Was she a threat, then? Link's sword-hand remained limp at his side, but his grip tightened on it.

"Yes, my soul has been cursed," Rosa answered, not sounding particularly morbid. Not sounding as though there was any emotion, really. She turned to him, eyes studying him for a moment before continuing, "And you, you are no different really – so why are you so surprised? Surely you noticed the scent of my roses?"

Link jerked forwards, prepared to snap something, growl something, to _hit_her – he was _not _one of them. Not yet, and by the Four Giants he never would be. But he wouldn't – no, it would not be right. This woman had posed no threat to him of what-so-ever; there could be no justification to striking her. So instead, reigning in his outrage, Link said softly, "I did notice; that's why I'm here."

"But that is not your only reason, is it?" Rosa had not moved her gaze from him, and Link could not deny he was more than just a little unnerved.

"I…" Link began, thinking through his words. "I'm here, because I'm not doomed yet. There's still time." Rosa merely raised a delicate eyebrow at this, but said nothing. Instead, she continued to move the watering can over other patches of roses, while Link stood in silence. He contemplated saying something – this was chance to talk to a vampire, a _real _vampire that wasn't bloodthirsty or possessive. To be completely honest, Link hadn't even known such a thing existed.

"I believe," Rosa spoke up before pausing a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. "I believe, you are foolish to trudge through my Master's labyrinth, but I will pity you. Inasmuch, there…" Rosa stopped again and looked up now, the watering can being presumably empty. Using one hand, Rosa eased her hand between her own rosebushes, and withdrew a clutched fist. She smiled very slightly – not wickedly, nor deviously, but a sympathetic smile – and continued, "… _here_ is a key for the building. Maybe it will be of some use for you…" And she opened her outstretched hand, revealing a rose-pink key.

Link almost smiled, if it wasn't for the disturbing similarity between what was happening now, and what had happened in his dream. Granted, instead of the Princess Zelda giving his inner child an ocarina-turned-rose, he simply had a vampire rose-tender giving him a key… but it was odd, all the same. This whole villa, this castle… this _world _was strange. The very absurdity of the situation he was in was simply beyond comprehension, at this point.

Accepting the key, Link started to find his hand sweep through hers, as soon as the tangible object was in his hand. Looking up, he saw the young woman fading away, becoming transparent even as she spoke her good-bye to him: "… good luck, adventurer. Do not lose your life too quickly…"

Link, though confused, left quickly and made his way back up to the room to inform Carrie of his discovery.

* * *

_I_

_n a quiet room, Carrie stood. She moved softly, but again, she realised that nothing in this place seemed truly to effect her save the ground beneath her feet. And glancing down, Carrie realised that even there, her feet seem to just barely be floating above the hardwood floors. Searching the room, Carrie knew it was familiar, it _had _to be…_

_"Ca… Carrie?" a timid voice said, and Carrie whirled at the sound. That voice, it was, it had to be…_

_"__Beth?!" _

_Beth smiled, a gesture that spread to her pale cheeks and lit up her emerald-green eyes. How flushed she still was though, and how pale was her skin. No doubt that being taken hostage during her fever hadn't helped with any remedies. Carrie moved towards her past the wooden table, and exclaimed again, "_Beth_?! Is everything okay? Are you okay? We didn't get a chance to talk—were we talking? Or was it just in my head? Are you sure you're okay? Completely? Or—"_

_"Carrie! Calm down, I'm fine."_

_"Still ill, though."_

_"I know," Beth sighed, annoyed, and Carrie laughed in relief at the familiarity of the gesture. Beth raised an eyebrow at her, and Carrie merely shook her head._

_"Sorry, its just…"_

_"You miss us?"_

_Carrie hung her head, but did not respond. How could she? The true guilt and shame—and the realisation of how stupid she had been—was finally catching up with her. Running away, honestly. And where had they come? What had honestly been accomplished? Wincing when her thoughts turned to Anthony, Henry and Cornell, Carrie was startled when Beth continued, "… its okay, Carrie. We're proud of you, you know that?"_

_"What?" Carrie asked in disbelief. "You're just saying that to make me feel better, Beth, c'mon. I know I nearly gave you all a heart-attack when I shot off like that…"_

_"No, Carrie, honest!" Beth moved close now, and again, Carrie noticed how much more _in tune_ with this strange dream realm Beth seemed to be. Carrie almost snorted though—Beth always had been more of the airhead. Maybe Beth had noticed, because a mischievous smile glittered on her face._

_"Don't worry about it, Carrie. At least you know how to get here now, so we can talk." Carrie raised an eyebrow now, and replied,_

_"So I won't be getting any lectures, then? I could come home without a blemish to my name?"_

_Carrie had meant it as a joke, a cruel one, perhaps, but a joke none-the-less. Beth, however, looked deeply alarmed and replied, "Carrie! You can't come home! It's too dangerous!"_

_"But wandering through this forsaken place isn't?" Carrie asked incredulously. She wasn't sure why she was doing this—in fact, Carrie was pretty sure that she had said the exact same thing to Cornell, earlier. But this was_Beth_; the sane one; the one who was supposed to think clearly, goodness._

_"But you're helping the children, aren't you? I heard you and the others found Anthony, already!" Fair enough, but Carrie still felt a little jarred at the lack of consideration. But again, Beth revealed her extensive empathy, when she smiled a little sadly and replied, "But yes, we miss you Carrie. We miss you more than I could even begin to explain—but I mean, those children need you more. You know that, and you know what you can do to help them."_

_Carrie, feeling childish for her earlier agitation, nodded rather formally. "Yes, you're right… it's just… I'm homesick, too, I guess. That's all." _And seeing Cornell again didn't exactly help_, Carrie thought wearily._

_"I know," Beth crooned consoling, putting a hand on Carrie's shoulder. Carrie jumped at the movement – she hadn't realised that Beth had moved so close. Pulling back, Carrie asked with a sudden desperation,_

_"But what if I fail? I haven't done _anything_ so far yet… what if I let you all down? What if…" Hysteria seizing her, Carrie clenched her fists together and moved away—only to find Beth's grip on her shoulder tightened._

_"Carrie, listen to me," Beth said calmly, quietly, steadily. "You will do _fine_, understand? You're panicking, that's all. You're a perfectly strong, perfectly lively young woman… but the bonds grow weaker."_

_"What?" At this point, Carrie was so utterly confused she didn't even bother to go into more detail; the expression on her face ought to have told Beth that much._

_"The bonds, Carrie, the bonds on the Prince! There are only five days to go! I can _feel_ it, I—" Beth was lost for words, and was gripping Carrie's arm so tightly now that the blood had stopped flowing. And yet, somewhere, Carrie heard a faint voice calling out. Ignoring the present for a moment, Carrie concentrated harder—it was familiar, but yet…_

_"Carrie," Beth whispered, throwing her arms in an embrace of the girl. "Carrie, what am I going to do? The children, they're running in a panic, and I've got to keep ahold of…"_

_"_… ammit!… Car…t up_!" it was so faint, but Carrie was certain…_ Cornell_? Had been her initial reaction, but this voice was younger, it…_

_"… the place is a mess, we need you so much, and I…" Beth broke into sobs and buried her face in Carrie's neck, but Carrie barely felt it. The world was fading around her, and the voice was getting louder, clearer…_

_"…_ Please! We have to—_"_

_"_Link!_" Carrie attempted to call out, pushing an almost translucent Beth away from her. The world was rapidly fading away, and Carrie was almost spiralling through the floor…_

* * *

"Dammit! Carrie! Carrie, _get up_!" Link was once again feeling an increasing unease. He had been standing here for more than what was necessary to wake someone out of a normal sleep… had Carrie actually passed out last night? Was she that exhausted? Should Link have put her into the bed while she was sleeping, for her own sake? _Dammit, Goddess-dammit…_ "Carrie! _Please_! We have to – "

Finally, Carrie stirred from her so far rigid sleep. Link watched her eyes stirring beneath closed-lids anxiously, before grabbing her shoulders and shaking her once again.

"Wha…?" Carrie's words were mumbled and stirred into one mixture, but Link was just relieved to hear the girl trying to make some sort of contact. By the Peaks of the Mountain, Link had been scared. Now, seeing Carrie's eyelids flutter open and the familiar scowl working its way onto her face, Link left her side to begin re-arming himself with everything he'd previously left behind.

He heard the girl fumble to her feet, and begin to shrug on her shawl and cloak. Once he had finished gathering up his belongings, Link turned to her and said, in mostly a rush, "Carrie – come on, we have to hurry. I have a key, so we'll head – "

"_Wait_, you have a _key_? What? Link?"

Link began tapping his foot impatiently; the girl was sitting on the bed, still sleep-plagued, attempting to adjust her cloak around her. Scowling, Link said, "Look, we just… we _have_ to leave this place. Don't ask why, understand? Just come on." With that, Link strode from the room. The point had been made on Carrie; she stumbled to her feet quickly, following after him in silence.

As soon as Link was in the hall again, he turned and faced Carrie. He sighed when he saw the sulky expression on her face, no doubt for being chastised. "Look," Link began, trying to douse the flames. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have snapped at you. But we _need_ to leave – I've got a key, and I bet that has something to do with it – and that should give us some sort of escape, all right?" He really didn't think she needed to know the entire story, of the pounding smell of blood in his head and the arbitrary meeting with a vampire. _Maybe she needs to know_. Maybe you need to be quiet. _She already knows your secret… what harm…_ That's enough!

Carrie opened her mouth to speak, and Link forced himself to listen in the dim silence of the hallway. Expecting an angry outburst, or a reply with indignation, Link was completely dumbfounded when she said, "It's fine, Link. You don't have to apologize… let's just get moving, all right?"

"I – but…" Link shook his head, remembering the urge to leave this place and the possible chance of demons. Instead, he only nodded in appreciation and began to make his way down the hall, testing each locked door with the key Rosa had given him. Carrie trailed behind, not looking focused – in fact, she looked incredibly somber. Link winced when he first saw this expression – it wasn't one that suited the girl. Link would have said something, only, now was _really _not the time for such matters.

"Damn!"

Stumbling through an unlocked door only confirmed that.

Groaning slightly, Link brought himself to his feet and looked around quickly. Carrie had followed through, albeit, a bit more gracefully then he had, and was scanning the wide room as well. No particular threats were in sight – there were some stylish sofas and a few chandeliers; four long-paned windows with billowing red curtains, which startled Link; an adjoining room to the left that was separated by two marble pillars; and to the other side of them, there was a large double doors.

Chancing his luck, Link beckoned for Carrie to follow him to the double doors. His boots padded softly against the blue carpet, barely disturbing the silence of the villa. Upon arrival, Link raised a hand and attempted to open the door – and it worked.

Link pulled back quickly – through these doors, there was a winding white staircase; nothing fathomable to fall down. _Dammit_– where _would_ this key lead, then? _Do we even _need _to __find out? Couldn't we just continue on without them? _That would be ridiculous, though, if it turned out they _did _need whatever the room had to offer, and only had to turn back. But then…

"Argh! All right, Carrie, here's what we'll do – _you _head back into the hallways, and – " Link looked up – the girl still looked unusually reserved. Concerned, Link grabbed her shoulders, causing her to meet his eyes. "Carrie, what's wrong?" Better they figure it out and solve it now, then have it weighing her down later.

Carrie flinched slightly, and shook her head. "Nothing! Just… this place, you know? I think… we shouldn't have stayed here for a whole night or something… it's so… empty. Like…" Link frowned at her, searching her blue-brown eyes intently for any other flickers. Yes, she was lying: that much was easy to spot – but at least _something _was out of the way and they could worry about the rest, later.

The girl must have noticed, because she ducked her head quickly, hiding behind her bangs.

Link sighed. "I know, Carrie." _Wonderful, Link; just play along with the lies. _Link ignored the voice, and continued, "I don't want to be here any longer than I have to either. That's why we have to _pull it together _and get out of this place, okay?" Link paused, waiting for some kind of reaction form her. Angry, annoyed, exhausted…

"Right." Carrie looked up, face set. "Fine, okay, we'll get going. What was I supposed to do?" Link would have laughed, if this had been at all an appropriate time to. Instead, he pulled out the rose key that Rosa gave him, and placed it in her hand. "Take this," he said, as he began to steer her back to the hallway doors. "Its got to unlock one of the rooms we didn't get a chance to explore yet. I'll come up and find you; just leave the room unlocked for me."

"Wait! Where are _you _going then?" Carrie asked, even though she was already in the halls. To his surprise, she still hadn't put up much of a fight.

"_I'll_ be heading downstairs, to see what we should expect, okay? Don't worry – "

"I'm_ not _worried! Not about me, anyways… just save your own sorry – "

"_Carrie_," Link interrupted disapprovingly, though a trace of laughter had found its way to his voice. _This _was more like the Carrie he knew. "Carrie, I'll be _fine_– just be careful! I'll only be a few minutes – "

"Yeah, yeah, _okay_, Link. I'll see you." And with that, she turned and began jogging slightly down the dimly lit hallways; Link closed the door behind her. Quickly, he moved back to the double doors, and stepped through. Just a quick check, and he'd go check on Carrie. Even _she _had to be able to stay out of trouble for a few minutes.

Taking his first few steps down the marble staircase, Link gripped the railing. _The last thing I need_, he thought with gritted teeth, _is another tumble down._

* * *

Padding softly against the velvety blue carpet, Carrie made sure to keep one hand pressed against the wall. _Dammit_, what had been going on with Beth? What was all of this? Lifting one hand from the wall and examining it, Carrie frowned in the lightly dancing shadows from the candles. Even to Carrie, her skin seemed pasty and pale at this hour in the morning. But… how long had they been sleeping? An entire day, maybe?

Carrie winced slightly as she lowered her hand and continued down the passage. Maybe Link _had _been right to pester her, irritating as it may have been.

The eerie softness of her boots crushing the carpet was not once interrupted save for the occasional whistling of raspy winds. This only alarmed Carrie – there were no windows in sight, after all, except for those through the heavy oak doors that lines the hallway. So far, she'd been able to open only three – the one she and Link had slept in, the one that Link had departed in, and another one she'd found, which seemed to be some sort of store room. Now, with the stain glass windows that lined the adjacent wall shimmering slightly, Carrie breathed deeply before taking the first few steps to the plunge of darkness around the corner.

So far, nothing.

Summoning up her rejuvenated strength, Carrie quickly located another oak door, and performed the familiar test. Ear near the door to listen, hand on the door for heat, and finally, letting herself in. If, of course, the damn thing even worked. Leaning her weight onto the door, Carrie nearly tripped on her own feet when it swung open.

"Wonderful, just wonderful," Carrie sneered quietly to herself, taking in her surroundings. Or, perhaps, the lack of. Naked except for the familiar blue carpet and a few scarce paintings, Carrie strode forward more confidently now. Turning her head to the side, though, Carrie froze momentarily when she saw the painting. A deep gash ran along it, like the claws from one of the beasts that Cornell used to tell her about. Granted, those were only fairytales, but all the same…

Shaking her head, Carrie moved the ray of light from her hand towards the farther side of the room. There, the light quickly ran back to her and she caught the shape of something moving. A person! Now summoning strength to her other hand, Carrie shot forwards, towards the figure—and ran straight into a wooden cabinet, almost knocking over a vase of roses that rested upon it.

"Dammit… damn stupid light, stupid mirror, stupid house…" Carrie groaned, slumping onto the buffet in front of the mirror. Taking a proper look at herself, she grimaced. Her hair was tousled and actually had bits of twig in it. Mild traces of sweat and dirt tracked across her forehead and hands, and stained her wrinkled clothes. And while no significant bags had formed under her eyes, her skin was looking sallow and pasty. With a flinch, Carrie thought of Link, and her hand went straight to the spot where the Blue Crescent Moon pendant ought to have rested.

A sudden yelp pierced through the silence like a poison-tipped arrow.

Carrie whirled around, and in through the door stumbled a young man of plain clothes and rusty hair.

"He-help me! This place… this place is crawling with demons!" Fear afflicted the man's dull-grey eyes, but that was nothing compared to the complete shock Carrie had gone into. Still gripping the edge of the cabinet tightly, Carrie managed to ask, "Sir? Sir… you're all right, though, aren't you? A villager, right?"

The man nodded, and slowly began to stand to shaking feet. "Aye, y-yes I am. But you… you are no vampire in this place. You seem like that other man…" Carrie's eyebrows shot up. Other man? Link, maybe? No… anyone this frightened would immediately have stuck around with Link. Perhaps…

"Vincent?" she asked curiously, still watching the man breath incredibly heavily. Carrie frowned slightly, feeling awkward, but the man interrupted that when he said, "I'm not sure, but I left his side soon when we were attacked… surely, if you value your life, you will leave this place soon…"

A soft flutter whispered behind Carrie. Turning, she saw that a petal from one of the damaged roses had taken flight to the ground, and was now lying gently at her feet. Not entirely sure why, Carrie turned the full way around with her back to the villager. Forming only the smallest morsel of light to feed the darkness, Carrie faced the mirror and peered into the reflection of the room.

Wait._Where did you_…?

The man! The reflection! Or… where was it, where was _he_…?

"Shit!" Landing hard on her side, Carrie had only just missed the leap from the damned villager. "What the hell?! You—you…"

"You don't smell like the other traveler," the man rasped, and with a transfixed horror, Carrie watched his face slowly melt away the flesh. Like fire spreading over a dry wood, the very veins of the man grew until the bulged from the thin, pathetic remains of skin that held together his demented face. Baring angry canines and eyes alight with malice and hunger, the demon spat, "No… I expect you to taste _far _better!"

Again, the vampire lunged, and Carrie spun herself away from the attack. Rapidly she grew orbs of light in her palms, backing away to the wall as she did so. But… _dammit, where did he go_?

In an almost telekinetic answer, a soft rasp came so close to her ear that Carrie jumped, and swung up her fist in defense. The vampire, however, moved with lightning-like speed and easily parried the blow with his own hand, using his other to grab Carrie's arm.

_Oh no, oh no you don't_ – Carrie brought out her foot and swung at the vampires knee, temporarily disabling him. She threw herself backwards to widen their distance, but the vampire got down on all fours and literally pounced. This time, however, she was ready for it.

Raising her hand as a shield, Carrie blinded the vampire and then pulled out one of the oblong daggers at her side, slashing the vampires chest. While it could not kill the demon, he still screeched and backed away temporarily at the pain. Carrie pressed her advantage.

This time, it was Carrie's turn to leap, and she practically bounded forwards, raising the daggers to the vampires throat. Tackling the demon, she straddled him, and raised her arm. The vampire writhed below her, and she brought the daggers down—

"No! You _bastard_! Get back he—" But it was too late, at this point. The demon that had been below her only seconds earlier had morphed rapidly into a sleek black bat, rising up with a whirlwind of mist to blind Carrie. Coughing and spluttering, Carrie rolled to lie on her back, the darkness of the room as her blanket.

* * *

Careful not to have his feet slide out from under him, Link precariously made his way down the marble steps. _Dammit _– for a place so inhabited, parts like these made it seem ridiculously well-kept. _But then, you _did_meet Rosa here…_ she's a vampire, though. _But capable of coherent conversation, apparently. Maybe being cursed isn't so bad… _no! _No_! I am _not _going there!

Link squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to make the voice go away. Not that it would, of course – Link was very aware that the irritating voice was his own, from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

"Dammit!" Link cursed when he nearly lost his footing with his eyes shut. He stopped moving altogether for a moment, regaining his composure._Goddesses_, be _careful_,_or Carrie will – _

A rustle.

And if Link didn't know any better, it sounded like clothes… coming from _underneath _the staircase. Reaching the bottom, Link realized he was in a small room, decorated only be a suit of golden armour in the corner and another pair of oak doors on the right wall. However, Link unsheathed his sword, and began to peer around for the source of the noise. There were _no _windows in this place, so it couldn't have been a breeze… where… another tender? _Another vampire_?

"Who's there?" Link called out, standing by the stairs. There was a small crook under the staircase – just large enough for a child to fit in, perhaps. Although _why _a child would be here was absurd, so Link readied into a battle stance when he heard another shuffle. A part of a shadow could be seen from where Link was standing, and Link was about to simply lunge, when he was stopped: a _sob_.

Lowering his sword only slightly – it could very well be a trap, Link had long since learned – Link dropped to his knees nonetheless. Looking into the crook, he could only make out a pair of brown boots and the tip of a purple cocktail coat. _Wait…_

"Malus?" Link called out softly, hoping that it was _indeed_ whom he thought. Another shuffle was heard; then the feet moved forwards, and –

"_Link_?" Malus gasped, throwing himself at the young man. Link stumbled backwards – he had only been balancing on his feet while crouched down, with only one hand free.

"Malus!" Link nonetheless repeated, after pushing himself up to sit cross-legged. Not that Link had much choice – the boy's arms were looped around Link's chest and arms; Malus had also proceeded to bury his face in the young man's forest tunic. Effectively locked in place, Link attempted to say a soothingly as he could, "Malus… what's wrong? What are you doing in a place like this?"

Malus pressed himself tighter, his eyes not meeting Link's. Wriggling an arm out from the child's grasp, Link awkwardly stroked the child's hair. Comforting never _had _been his forte… this was a bit like calming Epona down, when Link thought about it. In fact, Link had just gotten comfortable, when the child suddenly leapt away from him, looking horrified.

"Y-you!" he stammered, crab-crawling backwards. Link furrowed his brow, but Malus only continued, "I… we met, three days ago! You – you're… tonight, you'll – _stay away from me_!" Malus curled up into a ball, hugging his knees but watching Link frightfully.

Link, though severely stung, said gently, "No! Don't worry – I have more time."

"How do – "

"That's not important – why don't _you _tell me how you got to this hellish place?"

Malus, dropping his midnight-blue eyes, said softly, "They – they came to my village, the fiends and… they burned everything, my mother and father too…"

There was a sharp intake of breath on Link's part. _Burned_? His parents, they were… dead, then? _What_was happening in this world?

Malus, biting his lip, didn't seem to notice the pitying look Link was giving him. Instead, still staring at the floor, Malus continued, even more softly, "… a man came, in a cloak… they took the children; brought them here… "

"Did you get away from them, then?" _Oh, Din, don't let this be the gathering place. Don't let demons feast _here _of all places_.

"Ye-yes, I did. But… not all of the children, some of them… they ran off too, but scattered… most were recaptured." The breath caught in Link's throat, though he attempted his best to hide it for the sake of Malus.

Malus, however, couldn't seem to care less. He had once more pressed himself firmly against Link's chest, burying his face in the green material. Albeit a bit awkwardly, Link stroked the indigo locks of the child and said softly, "Look, Malus, I think I can help you out of here, all right?"

There was no response from the boy, but Link was not deterred. "Malus, I have to go get my other friend—"

"Other?" Malus peered up at Link, who smiled slightly in turn.

"Yes, don't worry, she's just off in another room right now… I'll get her, all right? And then we'll come back here for you, so just_wait _and please _stay still_. It'll make things easier, okay?" Link had responded all in one breath, beginning to feel slightly anxious. He had told Carrie he'd be there soon, and what if something had happened?

Malus bit his lip, and in quiet voice, he asked, "There are two of you?"

"Yes, Malus, two." Feeling slightly annoyed, Link gently pushed Malus away from him and stood up. "Go back under the staircase for now, and we'll be right back. Unless—"

"What? Unless what?" Malus was sitting with his hands sprawled out behind him, supporting him. Link, frowning, replied,

"_Unless_you'd rather just come with me? If that would make you feel better, we could—"

"No," Malus said firmly. "I want to wait here, I…" The boy looked at the ground nervously, and then said more quietly, "… if anything's waiting for us up there, I really don't want… not another…"

"It's okay," Link said quickly, before the boy could break down in need of more consoling. After ensuring that Malus was back in his hiding place, Link rushed up the stairs and pounded down the hallway.

* * *

He had _escaped_, the damned vampire! Having recovered from the momentary delay, Carrie screamed in frustration. Rolling to her feet, Carrie moved forwards, determined to plough the beast, when the door swung open once again revealing a rush of forest green.

"Carrie! Carrie, are you all right?" Link rushed forwards and grabbed her by her shoulders. Scowling, Carrie jerked herself free.

"Dammit! There was this… this _demon_ and he… argh!" Carrie whirled around and angrily began pacing back and forth. "_Link_, I almost _had this one_, I…." The vampire, dammit! What if that had been the one in charge of kidnapping the children? The one that got Nicholas? The one that was orchestrating attacks? _She had let it get away_. That was it! She hadn't saved a single child, while _Link_, it seemed, had already rescued _two_… what was she, then? A failure? Couldn't she even _help_ them, as she promised every child that she would?

"… Carrie, I'm sorry, but we've got to get going…" Link said earnestly. Carrie turned her head sharply to look at him, and he continued somewhat hesitantly, "Did you… did you find the door? For the key?" Carrie cursed. Dammit, that stupid vampire had gotten in the way with _that_, too…

"No, look, I'm sorry, Link, but I haven't found _any_ doors that are both locked _and _the key fits. I'm sorry, but I _was_ looking, but then that damned vampire…" Carrie cut herself off quickly, and watched Link's face carefully. Maybe one wasn't to talk about these matters around…afflicted persons? Maybe…

But Link hadn't particularly reacted. In fact, he said quite suddenly, "Those roses are exactly the same as the others. You know, the ones from that other room."

"Um, right," Carrie replied, watching Link curiously. He hadn't even glanced her way, and instead moved towards the fallen, but otherwise well-kept roses. Link crouched down and picked up the one petal that had fallen to the floor before, and said so softly, that Carrie couldn't be sure if she heard right, "She must come here, too…"

"Link?" Carrie asked, feeling bizarrely as though she was intruding upon a private conversation. "Link? What are you…?"

"Give me the key, Carrie. _Please_," Link replied, looking over his shoulder. Carrie sighed – _men_, honestly – and moved forward with the key outstretched. Link accepted it, and then moved to the drawers of the cabinet. One by one, Link tested each, until finally,

_Click_. One of them welcomed the key into their home.

"Well, I mean, I would have gotten around to testing those _eventually_," Carrie sulked, watching Link rummage through the drawer. He then turned around, and held out a glittering object. Peering closer, Carrie realized, with a groan, it was yet _another_ key.

A giant, brass key.

_Wonderful_.

"What is this, Link? Some sort of wild goose chase? A scavenger hunt?" Feeling extremely annoyed, Carrie snatched the key from Link and studied it carefully. "It probably leads to a gate or something. Maybe it's meant for the front door to this damned villa… but it was already open. This is _useless_, Link. That other key was _useless_. This whole _damned place _is—"

"No, it's not. Just give that here." Carrie was startled to hear a clear note of anger in Link's voice. This wasn't something she was completely familiar with – annoyance, yes; frustration, often. But that clear anger, and even _resentment_? Drawing back a little, Carrie handed Link the key back and followed him out the door.

Silence chased after them as the two walked back through the silent hall, like the shadows racing against the flickering through stain-glass knights.

* * *

So caught up in emotions had Link been, that he realized he had completely forgotten to tell of the boy. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Carrie following behind him, eyes to the floor and sulky scowl on her face. A flinch of guilt shook Link, and he turned away. Without turning around again, Link said, "I met someone while I was down there." Even if he wasn't looking behind him, Link knew Carrie was now watching his back. Link continued, as they slipped through the oaken doorways.

"Who…" Carrie didn't continue though, and Link sighed wearily. Turning around, Link said very softly,

"Just someone that I met, before I found you on the beach, right? His name is Malus, and we sort of lost contact after that whole…"

"Fiasco?" Her words were still buttered with tentativeness.

"Yes," Link said wearily. Hot coal would do him no good, after all. "The fiasco." Carrie grimaced, and followed Link as he made his way down a marble, spiraling staircase. As they moved down, Link said quietly over his shoulder, "Carrie – he's… a little frightened, I think. When I found him, he was crouched under the stairs… hiding, I think. I told him to go back – " Carrie jumped the last few steps after Link, and asked,

"Tell_ who _to go back, Link?"

"Him – Malus! Malus, come out, it's me, Li – "

"There's_ no one _here, Link… where could he _possibly _be hiding?" Carrie tapped her foot in mild impatience – sending a shiver of anger through Link, as though _she _had never followed a "false" trail. Unsheathing his sword and scowling slightly, Link responded,

"Come on."

* * *

_**DAY FOUR: AFTERNOON**_

"But…" Carrie bit her lip, realizing how terribly pathetic she would've sounded. Not that it particularly mattered; Link seemed to be completely ignoring her, focus on the tall oak doors off to the side.

"Where do you think it leads?" Link furrowed his brow, and moved to open it. Carrie blew a tuft of hair out of her eyes, and, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and proclaim, _"Why don't you _open_ it and find out?"_, threw open the doors.

A garden. A well-kept, finely trimmed garden like the silk hem on a lady's dress. The largest feature, however, was a tall hedge that seemed to cut off the size of the garden. There was a pair of iron gates that lead to a path through the hedges, and beside those gates sat a pair of stone-carved dogs – Carrie shuddered, and tried not to think of demon-dogs.

Turning to look at her companion, she saw Link move soundless forwards to examine the iron gates. Carrie desperately wanted to say something to break the solemn silence that both Link and this villa were casting, yet she could think of nothing. Instead, she observed Link pull out the large brass key that she had given him, and push it into the gate's padlock.

"Uh… Link?" Carrie asked, hands tightening into fists and rapidly beginning to draw on energy. "Link? You don't… you don't_ actually _want to go through there, do you?"

Link turned around to face her after pushing the rusty, creaking gate open. Cocking an eyebrow, Link asked dryly, "Why not? Have you found a better route to take?"

Carrie scowled – this growing sarcasm and rhetoric Link seemed to have found was beginning to grind on her nerves. Stomping forwards so she too stood before the impressive gates, Carrie snapped, "_No_, but _look_ – it's a _maze_ Link: this is a damn garden maze, like the ones in stories. What happens if we get lost? Trapped? Who _knows_ what's waiting in there for us?"

Link sighed heavily and gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Carrie…" For a moment, it sounded as though he was about to apologize, but he continued, "We won't know unless we press on, right? We'll just take a quick survey around… trust me, I'm sure we'll make it out of any maze. I – " Link paused quite suddenly, eyes intense through the gate. Carrie's eyes too, shot to the end of the path, through the gates…

"_Malus_!" Link called, and there was nothing to stop him from shooting through the gates. Carrie had seen it as well – the young boy had been standing there, clad in velvety night shades and just as still. At least, still until, with a jerking movement, he had shot off at the fork and turned out of their view.

Link was now racing to the end of the path, and spared only a moment to yell to Carrie, "_Come on_ – we've got to catch up! _Let's go_!" Carrie, utterly confused and yet empathizing with the sudden panic that seemed to have seized Link, followed, orb growing brightly in her hand.

* * *

Gasping for breath, Link turned right as soon as he hit the end of the path. That… _argh_! He had been right there… _why _by the Goddesses he had run, was beyond Link…

Cursing, Link realized he'd turned left and hit a dead end. Beginning to back track, he heard Carrie catch up behind him. He turned around, prepared to tell her to go back again and they would try a different path, when a sudden rustling caught his attention. Whirling, Link recognized that sound, he _knew _that the child had to be here, he…

"Malus?!" Link exclaimed again into the silence. The clearing had a few statues and a number of tall bushes, and Link had been _certain _he'd heard _clothes_… it couldn't have simply been the branches in the wind…

"Link?" a terrified squeak came. As Link had expected, Malus nearly fell out from behind one of the bushes. But this time, instead of racing to Link's side, Malus stood up and breathed shakily, "You've got to get out of here; he… they…" Licking his lips and clearly too frightened to continue, Malus backed away from the pair of them.

Carrie, beside him, looked clearly alarmed and she asked softly, "Ma-Malus? Look, I'm sure whatever happened, I'm sure we can take care of you, all right?" She moved a bit closer, trying to soothe the boy. Link was thankful – the boys attitude had put him on high alert, and he had never been the best comforter. "So…" Carrie leaned forwards carefully, placing a hand on Malus' shoulder. "So, Malus, just stay calm and – "

"_Ahh_! Help me!" Malus threw her hand off of him and staggered backwards, before shooting past the pair and turning a corner, out of sight.

"Mal – "

"_Link_!_Run_!" Carrie seized Link by the back of his tunic and shot after Malus. It was only as he began to turn himself around that he heard it – the hungry, rasping growl of beasts. Between the blood pounding in his ears and the thumping of his leather boots on the ground, Link could make out the bloodlust that seemed to wade out. However, the feral sounds did not go unaccompanied.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Eyes widening, Link saw a man – nay, a _demon_? Surely, a humanoid that large, with skin that wretched and a face so pathetically pieced together could not _truly_ be human? The most alarming of all, despite the enormous stature and ridiculous _speed_ of the demon was its arm – if it could even be called that.

A jagged piece of oblong metal jutted out from where the demon's forearm should have been. Metal teeth lined the structure – at least, that's what Link thought he saw, in the moment that the monster paused to tug on a chord, thus firing up the machine once again. Suddenly, the teeth began moving rapidly, whirring, circulating around the edge of the metal. Link may not have recognized the device, but he knew enough to know that machine was_ dangerous_.

Nearly crashing into the hedge as he ran, he shook himself free of Carrie's grip so that they could both speed up. Only the tiniest portion of Link's mind considered staying back to fight – right now, Malus was the priority. Now where had the damn boy gone?

"_RAWWRRR_!" a blood-curdling howl came from the demon, and the thumping of enormous feet on grass followed after them, ringing oddly against the hedges.

_Thump_.

Link could hear the snarling and spitting of dogs, accompanying the chase. Another roar from the beast.

_Thump. Thump. Thump_.

"Carrie! Carrie! Get up!" Seizing the arm of the girl who'd tripped, Link dragged her back onto her feet and turned the corner. Right again – if there was anything Link had learned through his years of temples and puzzles, he definitely remembered right now that always turning in one direction whenever possible was the only exit in any maze.

Carrie got to her feet, stumbling – the _thump thump thump _was only a few paces behind, the snarling was imminent, it –

"Hey!_Off_!" Carrie raised a glowing fist to one of the demon dogs – Link noted briefly that they were the same 'statues' at the front gate – and struck the beast off of the hem of her skirt. She winced suddenly, horribly, for Link was too late to warn her of their true nature; Carrie's fist had hit solid rock. Solid, yet strangely living and moving, rock. Scowling, Carrie stood upright, and Link used the pommel of his sword to smash the jaw of one of the beasts before grabbing Carrie's elbow and dashing forwards again.

The dogs howled, their demon master only paces behind them – Link could_ smell _the gagging flesh of the humanoid, the lethal whirring of the machinated arm… _a vampire, Link? Another one of your own?_ Link nearly screamed in frustration, and he whipped around.

"Link! What are you _doing_?!" Carrie exclaimed, eyes still locked on where they'd last seen Malus' tailcoat whip by. Tearing her eyes away from the fork they were approaching, she yanked on Link's tunic. "_Link_! You can't – don't – "

But Link was already moving. Tired of being chased, tired of having these demons and their shadows festering on his mind, inflaming wounds…_dammit_, Link put away his sword and reached into his quiver, notching an arrow…

… _just try it. Just come closer…_

A formidable roar ripped through the humanoid as powerfully as the arrow that pierced him. The dogs used the momentary stall to grab a hold of Link's tunic, but Link gave them a powerful backhand with his gauntlets – he let loose another arrow, this time aimed straight at the demon's face…

"_Link_! A little _help_, these – ugh!" Carrie shouted in frustration, and though Link didn't bother to turn around, he heard the clank of a metal dagger on stone. A whimpering howl ensued, followed by snarls. Link, hand releasing one more arrow, watched the blasted demon-man fall to the ground, mechanical arm still spinning viciously.

"Carrie! Let's go! Let's – " Putting away his bow, Link ripped his sword out of its scabbard and slashed through the two stone dogs, frightening them away. Stumbling to her feet, Carrie followed after Link, racing along in the maze.

What way had they been going? How far had Malus gotten ahead? Where had that boy _gone_? Left? Cursing, Link realized he approached a dead end. Backtracking – and nearly trodding on Carrie's feet, at that – Link winced when he heard the rapidly approaching ragged breath of the stone dogs. And closely behind… _clanking_? _Clattering_?

Not –

"What the _hell_! That bastard doesn't _die_, does he?" Carrie shot forwards, dragging a flabbergasted Link with her. The blundering hammers of the demon's feet seemed to echo after every snarl and growl. The menacing sounds shattered the tight atmosphere of the this maze, this _villa _– and yet, somehow still suffocate the exhausted Hylian.

Link cursed. And then he ran.

Blood rushing through his veins, wind whistling past his ears in shrieks and ominous screams, sword in one hand and the other with a tight hold on Carrie's hand. While shortcoming on his breath, Link forced himself to keep moving – this maze, with its intimidating towers, arbitrary turns and the throttling, invisible cloud was already pressing down around him.

Right – right – a left – right again…

"_Huh_?" Carrie almost tripped again in shock, and Link nearly skidded to a stop at the sight before him. While the imminent arrival of their chasers was closing in, there stood _Malus_, on the other end of a large, circular clearing. As they got closer, Link noticed that Malus stood in front of a large wooden door. The boy watched them, carefully, anxiously, maybe. But as soon as the two got close enough, Malus ducked through the door and beckoned for them to follow.

Link almost paused – something didn't feel right about this, and Malus had proven to be the strangest child thus far – but Carrie gave him a rough shove through, no doubt in response to the grinding swish of a rapidly approaching weapon-arm.

Sweat plastering his blond bangs to his face and the afternoon heat sizzling his pale skin, Link sagged against the hedge, only to find he was leaning on a rock-solid half-wall. Looking around, Link took in his surroundings. While they were still outdoors, and the path they were on was only as wide as the maze's had been. The 'wall' across from Link was still a hedge – Link could not make out what was on the other side – and behind him was another edge, lined with the small stone wall. Looking one way, Link could make out that the path continued back to the main mansion. Looking the other way –

"You sure you want to leave?" Carrie was asking Malus. The boy was ducking his head, intense eyes covered by indigo locks. Crouched down and one hand resting on his shoulder, Carrie's face was wrought with concern and even tenderness – definitely not an expression that Link was accustomed to seeing on her. Behind the two, on the other end of the path, stood another rusty iron gate.

"Ye-yes… if I can find others from my village, then… " Malus stammered, eyes still to the grass underneath his feet. Link wanted to say something – a warning, a lecture, demand answers – but _dammit_, Link couldn't seem to pick himself up, let alone form words. The midday sunlight was searing across the grounds, nearly blinding Link. The dry heat – which was strange, because thus far, nothing but dreary rain and overcast clouds seemed to plague the land – raked at Link's lungs and throat, and it was all Link could do to not break into a gasp, spluttering fit.

"All-all right," Carrie replied, pursing her lips. "Be careful though – the forest may be crawling with demons, and… are you _sure _– "

"Yes! I – need – I should…"

Carrie shook her head in annoyance, but stood up anyways to unlatch the gate for the boy. Link watched Malus briefly lock eyes with Carrie, before tearing them away again and setting off down the path through the gate. Sighing, Carrie swung it shut after him, watching the young boy leave.

Watching Malus leave with narrow, weary eyes, Link sank to the ground. Leggings sticking to him and tunic feeling uncomfortably itchy, Link covered his sea-blue eyes with his hands. The rough material of the his leather gloves that normally felt so familiar to him seemed to scratch at his eyes – _dammit_, if he could _just _get out of the sun…

A sudden weight on his leg caused Link to glance down. Carrie was crouching down, one arm resting on Link's propped knee.

"We've made a lot of progress, huh?" Carrie said encouragingly – even soothingly. Maybe she had noticed the blatant weariness of Link in this burning sunlight… an idea occurring to him, Link wrapped his hand around the Blue Crescent Moon pendant around his neck. A faint sense of soothing washed over him, and Link responded,

"I guess – we're leaving this villa though, soon, okay?"

Carrie collapsed next to him, leaning against the stone wall, sighing. "Sure," she breathed. "Sure thing."

Hand still clasping the pendant, Link gave her shoulder an encouraging, light punch. She had no doubt noticed the sudden movement to the pendant, and her mind must have gone back to hours ago…

"Hey, you're right, we've gotten far. Just keep your thoughts pushing up ahead, okay? Focus on the journey."

Biting his lip, Link tried to keep grasp on his own advice. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't the past that kept him bogged down.

Link tried not to let the seeping wounds of worry for his future impair him too much.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Okay, well, I think that went okay. Finding a good wrap up for this chapter was haaarrd… yeesh. Anyways, please leave a comment as always, they're much appreciated – and of course, I'll always get back to you if you want me to. 

In the next chapter, we actually get some emotional development! I'm so relieved… plot gets so heavy after a while, no?


End file.
